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nevermore-the-kitsune · 3 years

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Pokemon Teams for Fictional Characters pt. 2

Damian Wayne

(Also, I'm not including move sets because in my headcannon Pokemon do remember all their old moves. But humans choose to only use four)

For this AU I'm having the Wayne's own the Gotham City Gym, which specializes in Dark types. Most of the cannon events still happened. Just with a few tweaks here and there. (Dick's 20, Jason's 16, Cass is 15 Tim's 15 but younger than Cass and Damian's 13 because I love AUs where there closer in age).

Anyway here we go!

First things first in the Pokemon Universe his alias wouldn't be Robin since they don't exist. Instead I think it would be Rookidee, since thats the closest Pokemon to a Robin.

His Partner Pokemon and ace would be a Gligar

Name: Goliath

Gender: Male

Why: Gligar screams Goliath (his Batdragon) plus the coloring of his evolutions matches with Dami's Robin and Batman outfits

Story: He found Goliath while climbing a mountain for his training. At the time he was four and Goliath was a hatching. Damian ended up giving him some food, seeing that the hatching was hungry.

Grateful, the Gligar followed him hoping to return the favor.

When Damian's hand got broken on that same trip, Goliath was the one to help him finish his mission and get home safely.

Talia was impressed that Damian could tame a wild Pokemon without catching it, so she allowed him to keep him as his first Pokemon.

-----

Next he would have a Meowth

Name: Alfred

Gender: Female

Why: This one has to do with its evolution. Persian are said to only be loyal to trainers it likes and that it takes a lot to get them to like you. Their also said to be prissy and uptight. This reminded me of Damian. How it took forever for him to trust his brothers and his own snobby attitude. Thus I think it fits.

Story: After coming to live with his father Damian didn't know how to act. He saw his "brothers" and father treating their Pokemon so different than how the League did. They all trained hard. But, there was something eles: warm praise for a job well done, asking for insight on a case (they had taught their bipedal pokemon sighn language) and comfort on a bad day. His father and brothers treated their Pokemon like... people

In the League Pokemon where the lowest soldier, lower than the slaves or concubines. They trained, ate then they had to and got in their ball.

He had been a little more lenient in his training with Goliath. When asked he said that he was still a baby and he had to take things slow in this stage or he might develop too much muscle mass and be unable to fly.

He had kept him out of his ball with the excuse of developing muscle mass at a proper pace.

He liked Goliath's company. The Gligar was a good companion. But on the same level as another person?

He had expressed these thoughts to Pennyworth, the only person in the house to give him a straight answer when he needed it.

Pennyworth had explained to him that some people love to hold power over others and that Pokemon where an easy target, since they couldn't communicate their emotions as clearly as people could.

"Think of Mistress Cain. She sometimes cannot communicate with words, but we know that she's intelligent. But some people see her as less than intelligent and treat her as such because of the power it gives them."

Two weeks later Damian would come across a group of teenagers attempting to shave a Meowth. The Pokemon was little more than skin and bone and crying out on pain. So, Damian broke their fingers and shaved part of their heads for good measure.

He kept the Meowth and named her after the man who taught him about the abuse of power.

---

Next, a Poochyena

Name: Titus

Gender: Male

Why: These Pokemon and their evolution are ruthless with their pray, and only obey trainers with external skill.

Story: Raven gave Damian Titus as a gift. She said that she rescued him from an underground fighting ring (where the battles are to the death). He was still to young to battle so he didn't need much rehabilitation. The other Pokemon there though...

---

Now we have a Type Null

Name: Heretic

Gender: ???

Why: This Pokemon was created in lab, and artificial designed for the purpose of fighting, just like Damian. True I could have given him Mewtwo, but that cat seems to fit Kon more.

Story: Damian's mother had spent years creating Type: Null with the purpose of being able to kill any target. As a last test she wanted to see which of her creations was suppirrior. So she sent the Type Null out to (try and) kill her son.

Damian, with the rest of his team, beat the Pokemon but couldn't kill it. He had long since vowed to wash the blood from his hands. Instead he offered his hand to it and asked it to join him.

---

Here we have the hardest to explain... Mimikyu

Name: Habibi (I hope I spelled that right)

Gender: Female

Why: Damian is complex, he wants to be accepted and loved just like Mimikyu but dosent know how. Both try to mimic others in order to get that love, Damian his father and Mimikyu Pikachu. So I see this as Damian's spirit Pokemon in a way.

Story: He didn't know why it was so hard to fit in. Gods know he tried. But... little things confused him. Like how eveyone could understand each other without words or singhing. He had no problems with that on a battlefield, but in day to day life; it felt like he was on a separate server.

Like how Todd knew at breakfast with just a look that Drake was in a bad mood and how to help. Or how Grayson could audomadicly tell what kind of day at school the rest of them had withen a few minutes. Hell even Drake could tell what grunts ment what from father! Which ment good job, Which ment I'm glade your okay, or frustration either at them or at a case (Cass didn't surprise him, she had to learn how to communicate without words and watch body language and micro expressions).

School was no better; sometimes it was to load or bright othertimes, when everyone was doing a test, it felt to quiet. But, to much or to little, Damian was always aware of every movement, every sound. It was like the very instincts that saved his life every night where turned against him.

He turned to his nearly forgotten childhood habits to distract himself from everything around him. That only led to more whisper shouting and what even he could tell where displeased glares with a grunt of "fucking tapping" or a snap of "stop!" He knew it was disrupting but it was all be could do to drown out the noise or silence.

On one particularly bad day at school; apparently during one of their tests one of his classmates had had enough of Damian's tapping and decided to make a scene.

There was some yelling from the kid. A few cries in agreement. Before the teacher had gotten hem to settle down. He had demanded that Damian look him in the eye and when he finally did told him to stop with the tapping or else he would be sent to the office, Gym Leaders son or not.

He was the last to finish that test where he normally finished first. The silence had been to load!!

After that clusterfuck Damian finally headed home. He had texted Grayson saying that he was meeting a friend somewhere to work on a project and to not pick him up. In truth he didn't want his brother reading what kind of day he had had. He needed some time to himself.

That was how he found himself in a nearby park. It was filled with plenty of sounds that didn't suffocate him and the fall leaves where soothing to his eyes. Damian had Titus out of his ball as company, knowing that the pup loved park walks.

They had been walking for an hour when they came across a box set off just on the edge of the trail. "Free to Good Homes" was written on the side in black sharpie.

No sound was coming from inside, so he assumed that the had all been taken. Until Titus went closer sniffing at the seemingly empty box.

"Pooch Pooch"

"Hmmm... what is is it boy?" He asked as he walked closer to his Pokemon and the Box. Damian hoped he was wrong. It was cruel to leave a baby Pokemon all alone, especially since the weather was getting colder by the day.

Inside the box was in fact a lone Pokemon. At first glance it looked like a Pikachu. But something was off. It looked more like a doll than a living creature. If it wasn't for the small chirps it let out and slight way that it was shivering from the cold Damian would have written it off as a toy. No wonder it got left behind...

Damian reached down and picked up the mystery Pokemon as gently as he could.

"Come on beloved, lets go home."

He tucked the Pokemon in his jacket to warm it up before reaching for his phone to call Grayson for a ride home.

That night Damian locked himself away, even skipped patrol, and spent a sleepless night learning everything he could about his newest Pokemon.

---

That was inspired by this comic

---

Finaly, for his last spot Eevee!!

Name: Omni

Gender: Female

Why: I'm going to have all the Batfam members have an Eeveelution. This branch and the Batfam are both growing consistently. We all have our favorites but we love them all the same. So I think it fits.

Story: Everyone in the family had an Eevee or one of its evolutions. Damian's Father said that Eevee was the Wayne family symbol, it was potential, the ability to become whatever you wanted.

Though it surprised Damian that the Wayne symbol wasn't a Noibat or Noivern (Batman's ace) at first he eventually understood the logic in choosing such a Pokemon to represent the family name. That only made things harder for him being the only one not having one. Did they not truly see him as family?

On the one year anniversary of Damian arriving at The Mannor, his family through a small party. Pennyworth made his favorite foods, The Mannor was decorated in tacky streamers (Graysons' idea) and they watched some of Damian's favorite fims, their Pokemon curled up with them. His father had offered to take the day off from the gym. Until Todd suggested that Damian take on the challengers.

The Gotham gym was part of his heritage. Damian had been training for the day that he could finally help weed out the weak challengers just like his siblings sometimes did (think the battles you do before challenging a gym leader in the games).

On that day, if the challengers agreed to it, their final battle wasn't with Bruce Wayne the Dark Knight but instead his son. Most accepted thinking that it would be an easy win, that they had lucked out in not having to battle one of the stongest Gym Leaders in the League and could still get the Shadow Badge.

Those poor fools.

Damian was only allowed to use Alfred, Titus and Habibi since he used Goliath and Heretic primarily as Rookidee.

Damian fought seven trainers that day in 3v3 fights. Only two of them got the badge.

With the day overwith and the night rising, so did Gothams' protecters.

The night ended with exhausted body's and adrenaline crashes. Damian was ready to slip into a mini coma from the day he had but before he could head upstairs to The Mannor...

"Not so fast baby bat." Graysons' voice called out to him. "We got one more surprise for you."

Damian raised his eyebrow at that. What else could they do? His father came back from the locker rooms where he had been desuiting, it always took him the longest because of his "old man bones" as Todd said.

"Son," his father said "its Wayne tradition to get your first Pokemon when you turn ten years old. I missed that with you." He paused, eyes briefly shifting to the floor before they snapped back on Damian's face. "Luckily there's one tradition we didn't miss. When you've lived at The Mannor for a year or the adoption papers get finalized, I give my children this..."

He pulled a Poke'ball out of his poket and handed to Damian. "Go on son, let them out."

He did

Staring at him was his own Eevee.

---

AN: All of Damian's Pokemon (sans maybe Omni, I'm thinking of leaving her as an Eevee) will eventually evolve. Eventually.

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mirkwoodshewolf · 3 years

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The first sign; Jack Kline x reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys well it’s been awhile since I updated my Rock angel series and for good reason too because here is where things get DARK!! As you’ll see in the taglist below I’ve started putting trigger warnings cause in this part it involves stalking, dog attacks (some people fear dogs so I wanted to be respectful). Now the next chapter after this will REALLY be insane so I hope you all buckle up cause you’re in for one hell of a ride.

Also face cast for Steve I put the gif for Joe Keery, and for the Rock Angel’s manager just look up actor James Woods (aka Hades from Hercules).

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queendeakyy

@queen-paladin

@queensdivas

@wormzteef

@geek-and-proud

@starswin

@onebigfangirlworld

@dj-lowkey

@naturalswifty89

@isabella-bby

@bohemiansweede

@5sos-wdw

@labessieisallama

_______________________________________________________

Everyone thinks it won’t happen to me, that I’m immune to such evil. No one thinks they’ll ever experience such a thing but you’d sadly be lying, or in complete denial. At least everyone goes through this type of evil at one point in their lives. And for celebrities, it’s a living hell because the world will only watch with a bucket of popcorn and enjoy your pain and suffering.

The only ones you can depend on are your family. And don’t ever say they wouldn’t understand because they will. Had I not told my family about what was going on—you know what fuck it they were forced into this. But even so if they didn’t know what was going on, this part of my story would’ve ended very, very, very, very differently.

*2 months after the tribute concert*

I hadn’t slept in a week. I was exhausted with trying to put the final touches on my tribute album for Freddie. My manager James Woods was really putting the heat on me with trying to get this album up so that I could ring in the money for him. Wait first let me backup just a tick and explain some things first.

When I first transferred out of EMI and went to Hollywood Records, my manager at the time was a man known as Desmond Roberts. He was a generous, kind man who saw my potential as a female musician and like Miami, pushed me to do my best. He was a family man as well; at the time he had become a grandfather for the first time at the age of 52.

But earlier this year he had to retire because it was by law of the company that all representatives must retire by the age of 65. With that my new manager was his young and vibrant VP James Woods. James is—well let’s just say he’d make a better car salesman than a recording manager.

A man born and bred in the heart of Boston, he’s the kind of man who sees his own vision and wants other people to execute it for him. Hell he’s even been pressuring me to go more into Pop music as that is the rising fame of music now. Artists like Madonna, Gwen Stefani, rising star Christina Aguilera, and Mariah Carey. He wanted to push me to going in their direction.

But I reminded him of my original contract that I signed on between Miami and Desmond. That my image was to never, ever, ever under any circumstances be changed. Yes he even tried to make me change my stage name into the Spicy Angel (yeah that didn’t sit right with me).

To put it frank—my current manager is a stubborn, two-headed, forked-tongue, snake in the grass. Sleezy, and can make some vulgar comments either towards me or some of my roadies.

But the one step he took too far was when he hired his own nephew to be my PA (he claimed that he was trying to help out his sister). At first I was against it but with that pleading and begging persuasionistic tone of his, for some reason I ended up agreeing and his nephew Steve Harrison became my new PA.

Steve Harrison. He was the same age as Jack, had deep brown eyes, a fairly handsome face, but his crown jewel was his hair. He always bragged and fussed about his hair. Brown and fluffed up beyond anything, like cotton candy. Silky and moosed to no end. Wow and I thought I was bad when it came to doing my air before a show.

Now Steve definitely knew his way around the recording station. Made sure that every song I recorded sounded to perfection, always sought to my every need, ensured that for upcoming tours I was given updates on the schedule, and he even took my calls and wrote them down for me. He kept his work profession throughout all of 1991.

But when the summer of 92 came around, things began to change.

As I said before, I hadn’t slept a week. The Freddie Mercury tribute album was taking longer than the company expected. That’s because I wanted to make sure every song, especially the cover ones that Fred had given me legal rights to do, were perfect.

I was at the controls listening to my version of Somebody to love when the door opened behind me.

“I would’ve thought her royal highness would’ve gone home?”

“Perfectionists never stop. I learned that from the best group of men I know.” He took the empty seat next to me and presented me with a cup of coffee. I softly thanked him and went back to listening to my song.

When the last vibrato rang out on the word ‘love’, Steve sighed and said.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It’s shit!” I complained. “God why did he give me such responsibility to do these songs I-I-I—not I’m even worthy to do his songs. At least not without him.”

“This version is the best. Better than I’ve ever heard it been played. In fact……I think you’re better than Freddie Mercury.” I snapped my head towards him.

“Freddie Mercury was and will always be a genius. His voice is unlike any other performer’s and his style of writing will forever go down in music history as the best damn thing the world will ever know! So don’t you ever say that someone is better than him. Especially me!” I shot up from the chair, it rolled back and slammed against the wall and I turned towards the wall with my arms crossed over my chest, and breathed heavily trying to calm down.

“I—I’m sorry. I was just speaking my opinion. I—didn’t know how much you cared about him. He…..must’ve really meant something to you.” He spoke softly.

“More than you’ll ever know.” I muttered as I fingered the bracelet Fred gave me as a birthday gift. “And I’m sorry Steve I—I didn’t mean to shout. I’m……just exhausted and stressed. With your uncle—”

“Hey, I get it. Uncle James can be a real pain in the ass at times.” I turned towards him and saw him standing a few inches away from me. “Hell one time when I was 16, I had asked him if I could take his mustang for a test drive and he told me ‘kid you so much as even leave a fingerprint you’re as dead as a doornail and I don’t care if you’re my nephew’.” The two of us laughed at his uncle’s impersonation.

“And I thought I was the only one with a douche uncle.”

“Oh trust me, you think he’s demanding at work? You should see him round the holidays.” I softly laughed. That’s when I felt his finger slightly graze against the back of my palm.

My heart stopped and that’s when I noticed that he had gotten a little closer to me. Closer and closer his face came but I quickly got out of his way and said.

“Excuse me, I gotta sign off this track and ship it off by tomorrow morning.” I grabbed Steve’s chair and went straight back into my work. As I was fiddling around with the switches and buttons, I could feel that he was standing right there beside me. I tried to ignore him and focus on my work but his lingering presence grew too much.

Like a moth to the flame. Silent but fluttering around too close.

I turned to say something to him, that’s when his lips suddenly crashed with mine. My eyes widened and my body froze for a moment before my brain snapped back into reality.

I pushed him away and slapped him across the face. Standing up and my chest heaving in so many mixed emotions, but the one main emotion going out about me was anger.

“What the fuck Steve!? Why did you do that!? You know I’m happily married and have children!”

“I—I’m sorry I just…..I’ve always been a fan of yours and I just….I’m sorry. Please don’t tell my uncle. You know as well as I do what he’s like. He’ll beat me to a pulp if he finds out. Please Angel I beg of you, don’t tell him.” His eyes going fearful and tears shined at the corner of his eyes.

I wish I could say that I told him that I was going to rat him out, have him fired even but—I didn’t. He’s right I did know what it was like to have an abusive uncle. Now while my uncle never really touched my physical, he did have his temper and would throw things at me just barely missing me (that mostly happened when he was on the bottle).

“Only if you promise me you won’t do shit like that again. And never speak of this to anyone.”

“I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.” He said as he crossed his heart with his finger. I narrowed my eyes at him and grabbed my purse.

“Take the day off tomorrow. Then come back on Monday to work. Professionally.” I emphasized the last word and he nodded and I walked out without another word.

I wish I could take it all back. That I had fired him right then and there, if I had then what would eventually come, wouldn’t have happened. Or at least not gotten to the scale that it did get to.

*3 weeks after the kiss*

I was on the Late Show with David Letterman doing a television interview about the upcoming album as well as my tour coming later in the year.

“So Rock Angel your upcoming album ‘Fly High Mercury’ is said to be unlike your previous albums is that right? It also was the one that also took you the longest to make correct?”

“Yes it is.”

“Care to explain?”

“Well as you can tell by the title this is a tribute album to Freddie Mercury.” The audience applauded. I nodded and swallowed a lump in my throat. “Some of the songs are what I’ve written but another half of them are Queen songs that Freddie himself gave me legal rights to make a cover to. In fact they were some of my favorites.”

“Now how long did it take you to make this album?” David asked me.

“Well the songs I did, took roughly a couple of months but when—Freddie passed away I took a few months off to grieve and then as you all may have seen I was a part of the tribute concert so in total almost ten months.”

“Wow ten months.” I nodded. “And you said Freddie gave you the rights to some of Queen’s songs to cover?”

“Yes.”

“How did it feel to have that kind of pressure on you?”

“I’ll be honest it was tough. How-how do you compete with someone like Freddie Mercury? His voice and musical talents were unlike anything anyone’s ever seen or will ever see most likely. And when he asked me to do some of Queen’s works, particularly the songs he himself had written, I felt like I was going up against goliath and I was David. But—Fred has his reasons for why he does what he does, and—he must’ve felt like I could help embrace his memory further by introducing a new audience to some of Queen’s work, especially their earliest songs.” The crowd applauded.

“Well said, well said. Freddie will truly be forever missed. When we come back we have Kurt Russel joining us and then after that the Rock Angel will perform one of her hit songs from her recent album Fly High Mercury which is now available in stores. The Rock Angel (Y/n) Kline everybody!” the crowd applauded and David and I shook hands with each other as his theme song played us out on the commercial break.

I went backstage to change out from my black sequin interview dress and into some regular but dressy performance clothes. A black leather jacket, a white blouse, tight jeans, and some high-heeled black boots.

“Oh angel.” I internally groaned. Speak of the devil. James Woods soon came into my dressing room without a single care in the world (he’s lucky I’ve learned to do quick changes otherwise we’d have a problem). “Now darling please remind me again why you’ve declined Donald Trump’s hotel gig? He’s offered plenty of money for your performance especially since it’s his son’s birthday that day.”

“When I went to talk to him he also made me an offer I simply had to refuse.” I shuddered. “He’s a pig and an upright asshole with no respect for anyone but himself and his precious hotel business. God help us if he ever becomes President.”

“Fine. Instead of adding to the profit we would’ve gotten from this, we’ll take it out of your next pay how bout that?” I glared at him.

“You really wanna go toe to toe with me regarding money? Go ahead. Just know I’ve got the best lawyers in all of London on my side and they’ve been good to me for 10 years. So you better pucker your lips and do some serious arse kissing to the judge because they’ve won every. Single. Case I’ve ever had to do. From false stories to paparazzi stalking.” I stared him down even though I only came up to his chest.

Even through those cold, greedy eyes of his, I saw that he was afraid.

“Ahh court cases are a waste of time and a waste of profit. Now go on out there and give them a show baby cakes.”

“Never call me baby cakes.” I trudged out of my dressing room with my red special in hand and headed back towards the stage to sing my song.

After the show ended, I was back in my hotel room in Manhattan. I had just gotten done with my shower and soon coming into the room was Jack with some late night takeout.

“Chinatown special for the Rock Angel.” I smiled and splayed myself across the bed as he came toward me with the food.

“Mmm room service and a cute delivery boy. I am one lucky girl.”

“Well then Mrs. Kline, do I get a special tip for my services?” Jack played along with a grin. I smirked and placed my hand on the back of his head and brought his lips towards mine. His hands soon came to my waist as we separated but I kissed him again. Jack hummed in surprise. “A double tip? Well then, guess I need to be the delivery boy more often.” I giggled and took my food out of the bag.

“But serious babe, thanks for getting the food.”

“Hey no problem, anything for my beautiful rock star. I know that with your schedule firing back up, you don’t have time for a normal meal like we did before.”

“Did you call your mom about the kids?”

“Yep. Kids are safe and healthy. Well Little Jack had a slight fever but he was better within a day thanks to mama’s secret chicken noodle soup. I know that thing saved my life as a kid.”

“Well then she better……” a knock was soon heard at the door. Jack and I looked at each other confused. He stood up from the bed and answered the door. I held my robe tighter around me and soon I heard the door slam shut and Jack soon came in with a bouquet of a dozen roses. “Did you order those?”

“Nope. But I’ve got a feeling who did.” He turned as he glared to the room opposite of our suite.

Well of course I told Jack about the kiss. I know what it’s like to have been cheated on so there was no way in fucking hell I was gonna keep this a secret from Jack. As you can see he has not taken it well, in fact he’s grown very angry and jealous when Steve gets mentioned.

“Let me see the card.” He tossed the bouquet down on the bed. I sent him a glare and went to pick the card out and I opened it up. And low and behold it was from Steve. Even though it didn’t have his name on it, I recognized his handwriting anywhere. He wrote.

Fabulous performance (as always). A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

Your secret admirer and #1 fan

“You should’ve fired him.”

“Oh so you’re saying this is my fault!?” I snapped.

“No that’s not what I’m saying!” Jack snapped back at me. “I just…..” he exhaled deeply trying to release his anger. “I don’t trust him anymore. Not after what he did. In fact ever since he’s kissed you he’s been sending you a lot of stuff. The flowers, your favorite German chocolates, he even gave a teddy bear to our daughter! I’m telling you something about him now is just……” I walked up to him and embraced him.

“I know love, I know. I don’t feel comfortable around him too. But—he is James’ nephew and unfortunately he wants his sister to get off his back with this favor.”

“That shouldn’t matter! If he makes you uncomfortable you should just fire him and not even worry about what that sales talker of a manager tells you.” He is right. It shouldn’t have to go on like this but unfortunately the business world isn’t on my side when it comes to choosing my PA’s, I was thankful enough to keep my touring roadies and not get some rookies or 40 year old perverts who get high or drunk.

“The likes of a woman in a men’s workforce. I wish I could Jack but I can’t. Legally anyways. Look I’m exhausted right now can we please just go to bed?”

“Alright. But we will come back to this. (Y/n) I’m only stressed about this because I don’t want to lose you. What if—”

“Hey!” I put my finger of his lips. “Don’t you dare think like that. I know celebrities are always the first to die when it comes to crazed fans. But I swear to you Jack Kline, I will not be one of those singers to die at the hands of a so called ‘fan’. I’m your lioness.”

“And no one can break you down.” We pressed our forehead together and just stayed like that for a good long moment. I then softly kissed him and went to change out of my robe into my nightdress. Jack stripped down to his boxers and we put our takeout in the mini-fridge by the bed and turned off the lights before cuddling close together.

*September 8th, 1992*

It was Kelly’s first day of 1st grade. Jack and I couldn’t believe that our little girl was on her way to 1st grade. Of course to me it was the first day of primary school but still it was a big day for her. So Jack and I were sure to be there to see her off but sadly both of us had a long day today so we couldn’t go pick her up.

I was busy prepping for my upcoming tour while Jack got backed up with the car dealership. But thankfully Jack’s cousin Jared (who was working a case at the time) volunteered to go pick Kelly up after school. Now this school was at the top with their security, only those who were approved by the Parent or Guardian could pick up the child (which was good with us).

So Jack and I made sure to list the family members down in order so we went from Kelly Kline, Misha Kline, Roger Taylor, Brian May, John Deacon, and Jared and Jensen Walker as the adults to pick Kelly Kline up from school should Jack and I not be available.

It was late in the afternoon, around 3:30ish and I was talking with my tour manager Phillipe about where each performance was gonna take place when the phone suddenly rang. One of the assistants answered it and she said.

“Hollywood Records how may I help you?” there was a pause and suddenly her voice went frantic. “Whoa, whoa, whoa wait a minute slow down. Slow down who are you wanting to talk to?” I turned to her confused. “Okay hold on I’ll get her,” she turned to me and said as she held the phone close to her breast, “Mrs. Kline someone wants to speak to you. Says his name is Jared Walker.” I immediately shot up and took the phone and said frantically.

“Jared what’s happened?”

‘I-I-I-I went to pick Kelly up like I said I would, but when I got there they had said you had already sent approval of someone else to come get her!’

My heart stopped. They say it’s every parent’s worse nightmare come true, but it’s never fully real until it happens to you.

I dropped the phone as Jared’s voice echoed through the speakers calling out my name.

“CALL THE POLICE! CALL JACK! CALL KELLY’S SCHOOL! CALL ANYONE!!” I screamed frantically.

The search for my daughter was—one of the worst things I ever had to go through. Just who in the hell would know where exactly her school was? Not only that but who got my approval to sign off for her release?

I was frantic to the bone. I kept pacing with anxiety as every fiber of my being was buzzing with all kinds of emotions. Jack and Jared tried their best to calm me down but I wasn’t going to be calm till I had my baby in my arms.

After an hour and a half grueling search, the home phone suddenly rang. I went up to the phone and answered it.

“Hello?!” there was silence at the end of it for awhile till finally his voice came up.

‘Lose your little cub?’ my eyes narrowed and now only rage filled my body.

“Where is she Steve?” I sneered.

‘Just meet me by the spot where the first action sequence of Terminator 2 was shot.’ Then the line went dead. I hung up the phone, grabbed my keys and dragged Jared by the arm towards my car and we raced down the highway.

When we arrived at Bull Creek, I told Jared to stay in the car while I handled Steve. I got out of the car and right there at the very track where the first action chase scene of the film took place at.

Just ahead of me was a blue Ferrari leaning against it was Steve Harrison. And through the windows I could see Kelly playing with her favorite doll that she took with her to school, without a care in the world.

“So glad you finally made it Angel. Didn’t think I’d expect to see you to take my advice so quick.”

“Open the door.” I sneered.

“Gee not even a thank you?” he joked.

“I don’t have time for bullocks right now Harrison! Now open your bloody car door and give me back my baby!” he went over and opened the door and once Kelly saw me, her smile on her face grew wider.

“Mummy!” she cheered as she got out and raced towards me. I immediately knelt down and picked her up in my arms.

“Oh my baby girl. Oh thank god you’re safe! Are you okay? Look at me. We were all so worried about you.” I said as I kept kissing all over her face. She groaned and tried to get me to stop.

“I’m fine mum! Mum stop it stop kissing me! Mr. Steve said you changed your mind about uncle Jared coming to pick me up.” I glared over to Steve and said.

“Honey go in mummy’s car and wait there with Uncle Jared.” I kissed her one last time and she did as I asked her to. I walked closer to Steve as he kept talking.

“Lovely reunion. See I knew you’d appreciate what I’d done. After all as your personal—” I sucker punched him hard across the face sending him down to the ground. Blood even dripped down his nose. “Wow. Wow!” he scoffed. “I-I-I-I know that girls could punch but that…..that was—”

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” I snapped at him.

“You should be grateful. I did you a favor. I picked up your daughter from her first day of school.” He tried to reason with me.

“You had no legal right too! You kidnapped her!”

“Kidnapped?! Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa wait time out!” he stood up and wiped his bloody nose. “Wow head rush. Okay hang on a minute. You were incredibly business with the tour manager so I knew you wouldn’t be able to pick her up. And of course Jack……” he sneered out Jack’s name with anger and jealousy. “He works now right? I mean about damn time too, can’t be the house husband forever right?” My glare deepened, “Anyways, so no one else was there to pick up sweet, little Kelly so I volunteered myself to pick her up. Didn’t want her staying at the school all by herself, now did we?”

“She wasn’t going to be alone we arranged for Jared to pick her up!” at that Steve’s face turned to shock as he said.

“Oh. Well—this is awkward.” Oh he was an incredible actor I’ll give him that.

“What is wrong with you Steve? What were you trying to accomplish here?” that’s when his eyes darkened and grew cold. His voice even changed to a possessive tone as he walked closer to me.

“Jack doesn’t deserve you. A farm boy like that? No you need a real man at your side. Someone who gets the business, someone who is always by your side. I know who you are (Y/n) Kline.”

He tried to grab my chin but I clenched his hand in mine and dug my nails into his skin. My hand shaking with rage as I stared him down.

“Is that what you think? You think by doing all this you actually believe I would leave Jack for you? You’re even more delusional than Jack painted you. Now I see it for myself.” I threw his hand down and backed away from him. “A wise man once said to another slime like yourself, ‘you just see what you want to see’. Next time you even touch or go near any of my kids, I swear to you there won’t be a courthouse that your uncle can bride with what I’ll charge you for.” I turned and walked back to the car and took Kelly home.

Of course I wish I could say that was the last time I ever saw Steve’s face again. But due to lack of evidence in the fact that Steve had given a false document allowing him to take Kelly, he wasn’t charged with kidnapping.

Plus his uncle got involved and swindled with his business talk saying that I was under a lot of pressure with the upcoming tour and that police action at the time of Kelly’s disappearance wasn’t necessary. He also emphasized that Kelly wasn’t harmed in anyway so it’s not like his nephew was an evil person. So the police believed James’ story and no charges were filed and Steve was a free man to do as he pleased.

Jack and I reinforced the school and even gave them Steve’s picture saying that if he ever came into the school again asking for Kelly again, they were to call the police because Steve Harrison does not have access to take Kelly out of school.

Little did I know that things were only going to get worse after that day.

*October 3rd, 1992. Jack’s POV*

It first began with the constant phone calls to the house. The phone was constantly ringing and everytime I picked it up, there was no one there. Just heavy breathing and then they’d hang up. It happened for hours on end, even at some odd hours in the night.

Soon enough I had had enough and decided to unplug all the house phones and I got me my first cellphone. If anyone in the family wanted to reach me, I told them to call by my new cellphone and that’s where I was talking to my Angel at.

‘Have the phone calls kept coming?’

“Unfortunately yes they did. But I unplugged the house phone so hopefully whoever it is gets the point and drops these crank calls and finds someone else to torment.”

‘I don’t know Jack. Maybe I should just come back and forget this tour.’

“No, no. Look, you nearly missed out the Angel-Queen tour back when we first met, I won’t let you cancel this tour either. Besides the world needs their Angel right now.” I assured her.

‘Yeah but—’

“What would he say right now?” I interrupted her. I heard her softly scoff and I knew she was smiling on the other end.

‘He’d tell me ‘Angel darling stop being so dramatic. There’s only room in this partnership for one hysterical Queen. Plus you’ll get early wrinkles’.’ We both laughed. ‘God I miss him so much. I can’t believe it’ll almost be a year come November.’

“I know. Have you talked to the guys at all since the concert?”

‘Not really. Figure I’d give them some space. They know my team’s number if they want to talk to me.’ I nodded and hummed in understandment so that she knew I was still listening.

“So you made it to Phoenix in one piece?”

‘Yeah thankfully. I’ll give you a call right after the show. Give the kids a kiss and cuddle for me.’

“Oh you know I will.” I said with a smile.

‘I love you Jack Kline; you know that right?’

“Of course I do. And I love you to the moon and back. Have a good show baby.”

‘I will. I love you.’

“I love you infinity times infinity there. Now you can’t say you love me more.” I heard her giggle. “Knock ‘em dead Angel.”

‘I will, bye.’

“Bye.” We both hung up and I deeply sighed.

“Daddy?” I looked up and there was Kelly in her nightdress holding her stuffed lion that her godfather gifted her.

“Hey baby girl, why are you awake?” I asked concerned. She walked up to me and sat down in my lap and said.

“I couldn’t sleep. Can you tell me a bedtime story? You know how like uncle Freddie used to tell me?” I stroked down her hair and said.

“Well, I’m not as extravagant or detailed as he used to make it but—I’ll do my best. C’mon I’ll make you some warm milk and tuck you back into bed, sound good?” she nodded. I picked her up, set her on the kitchen counter and prepared her some warm milk.

After that I carried her back to her bed and tucked her back under her covers and she took a sip of her milk.

“Okay so, what shall it be tonight? Do you want a story about—fairies?” she shook her head. “Unicorns?” again she shook her head. “Oh how about the story of a beautiful princess who gets saved by a knight in shining armor?”

“No daddy. Do you know the story of the lioness Queen?”

“The lioness Queen?”

“Uncle Freddie once told me a story about the lioness Queen who was raised by evil wolves but soon came on top as Queen of her own pride. He was gonna finish the story of how she would find herself a king but then—” she trailed off and I could see the tears prickling in her eyes. Oh that Freddie, of course he would tell our story like we were two lions.

“I think I know that story. Now again I may not be as good of a storyteller as Uncle Freddie was but I’ll do my best.” I sat down by her bedside and she cuddled up into her pillow, her stuffed lion in her arms. “Now let’s see……the Lioness Queen had reached the height of her reign. Everyone loved her because of her kindness and loyalty, but she was very much lonely. Sure she had the support of her new family but she still longed for someone she could love more than the family love she had from her new pride. So one day when she was out hunting, she was suddenly ambushed by the no good jackal. Now this jackal had particularly taken an interest in our brave Lioness Queen but she knew to not take any of his bullying. However he had brought his entire pack and they ganged up on the poor lioness.”

“Daddy don’t make it too scary.”

“Right, right, right I’m sorry angel. But the lioness Queen didn’t have to fear anymore. Because leaping from over the tall savannah grass was a dashing, handsome and powerful lion. He beat the jackals away and told the head jackal to leave and never bother the lioness again. Soon the jackal tucked his tail in like a frightened dog and fled the savannah and was never seen again. The lioness Queen was in debt to the young lion that saved her so she asked him if they could go to the watering hole together to talk and get to know each other more.”

I continued on to tell her mine and (Y/n)’s story of the day we met and fell in love with each other. Then about midway through the story I looked down and saw Kelly was finally back asleep. I smiled and kissed her forehead.

“Sleep tight my little lioness cub.” I walked out of her room and shut her door and walked back downstairs.

I walked towards the kitchen and I saw Sammy lying asleep on his doggie bed and Bucky asleep on his. But as soon as I came in, the two of them looked up at me.

“Hey Buck, Sammy.” Buck grunted as he sat up and came up towards me and sat down. I ruffled the top of his head. “Okay so what do you say last quick trip outside then time for you guys to get in your pin?” Sammy’s tail wagged as he immediately went towards the backdoor. I opened it up and he immediately went outside. “Alright Buck come on outside go out and go potty.”

But Bucky seemed tense. He lowly growled before racing towards the front door.

“Bucky? Buck!” Bucky went over to the front door and suddenly began barking aggressively and very loudly. “Buck! Buck shh! Quiet!” but he refused to listen to me. He kept barking and barking and barking. His fangs were out as he raced from the door to the windows. Growls came out of him and I noticed that his fur was on end.

Okay maybe it’s another dog or a raccoon or something, he tends to do that and we’re trying to break him of that habit. I grabbed his leash and when he was finally still I got it hooked to his collar and forced him towards his pin.

“Get in your pin now!” he snapped at him. I got him in his pin and as soon as I shut the door he started whimpering frantically, pacing around his pin letting out bark after bark. “Shhhh! You’re gonna wake the kids Buck now quiet!” I looked towards the front door and sighed heavily. Might as well just see just what’s out there.

I grabbed a flashlight and quickly stepped outside. I shined the light in every corner of darkness but I didn’t see a thing. No stray dog, nor a racoon, a cat not even a squirrel.

“That Buck is crazy sometimes.” It was then I noticed that our trashcan had somehow gone out to the side of the road. “I thought I brought that in when I came in this afternoon? Damn pranksters.” I left the front gate that surrounded our house and walked out to the curb to grab our trashcan and bring it back towards the side of the garage.

That’s when a loud purr of an engine roared through the quiet streets and bright headlights flashed right towards me. I heard the screeching of tires coming right towards me and without even thinking I ducked right up towards my driveway and I heard the sound of our garbage can being hit and tossed across the road.

The car’s lights soon turned off and sped off down the street. I panted heavily, my adrenaline now starting to collapse as I began to realize what could’ve happened just now.

Someone was trying to run me over and kill me. I knew that couldn’t be a mechanical problem cause why would the headlights suddenly come on and then accelerate straight towards me before driving normally down the road?

Only one person came across my mind as to who would go so far as to get rid of me. Steve.

I called up Jared and using his lawyer expertise he asked me various questions but unfortunately since I couldn’t identify the model of the car clear enough and couldn’t read the license plate in time there was no way for me to truly say it was him unless I could physically prove it.

But after that night I didn’t see Steve again, and I hoped that was the end of it. Until Halloween came around.

*Halloween night, 1992. 8:30pm*

I had just brought the kids in from our night of trick or treating. You know I’m glad we decided to allow the kids some time to know the American holidays cause I had to explain this to the guys as well as (Y/n) just what Halloween really was (since they don’t really celebrate it there in jolly old England).

I dressed the boys up as little lions while Kelly went as a witch this year. We all came in carrying our bags of candy.

“Candy!” Georgie exclaimed.

“That’s right buddy. We got candy, lots and lots of candy.” I told him as I got them out of their little red wagon.

“Daddy, daddy can we eat all the candy tonight please?” Kelly begged.

“You know your mother will kill me if she finds out I let you eat sweets before bedtime.” She whined before giving me her mother’s puppy dog face.

“Please daddy. Not even one itty bitty, teeny tiny bite?” I playfully placed my hands over her face which made her exclaim and shoo away my hand.

“You can have just one. Piece. But that’s it okay?” she cheered and quickly went through her bag and got out a blueberry flavored lollipop.

“Hey daddy? How come we can’t do trick or treating back where uncle Brian, uncle Deacy and papa Roger live?”

“Well sweetie, sometimes other countries don’t do the things we do. And sadly Halloween is just another day for them.”

“They should. Maybe next year papa Roger and I can be Star wars characters together.” I chuckled.

“I think your uncle Brian would enjoy that more than papa Roger.”

“But I wanted papa Roger and I to be Han and Princess Leia. Uncle Brian can be Chewie.”

“And uhh—who-who did you have in mind to be Luke?” I said brushing my fingers through my hair.

“Mommy! Cause she’s brave and strong just like Luke is! Georgie and Jackson can be R2.”

“And just who will uncle Deacy and I be?”

“Well uncle Deacy can be Obi-Wan and you’re C3-PO.” Wow she gives me the nagging droid.

“Oh so you think I’m a mindless philosopher ehh!? Come here you!” I quickly grabbed her and began tickling her which made her shriek and squirm. “Have me be Luke Skywalker or the tickling continues your highness!” I mimicked Darth Vader’s voice.

“Ne-nevheherererer!” she said through her laughter. I proceeded with the tickling till I heard the sound of a car engine coming down the street.

My mind suddenly went back to that night when I nearly got ran over. I set Kelly down on the floor and peeked through the curtains and could see someone standing right beside a familiar shape of a car that I knew well.

“Daddy? Is……everything okay?” I looked down at Kelly before quickly looking back towards the window.

“Kelly I need you to listen to me very carefully sweetheart. I want you to take your brothers and go to mommy and daddy’s room and hide in the closet. And no matter what happens do not come out till I come and get you, okay?”

“But why daddy? What’s going on?”

“Just!” I snapped but clenched my hand tightly and said as I knelt down to her height. “Please Kelly, do as your father tells you. Remember not a word or even let me see you till I tell you it’s safe, promise?”

“I promise.” I hugged her tightly and gave her a kiss and told her to go get her brothers and get upstairs. I glared at the door and opened it up before closing it. I walked towards the front gate and that’s when I heard his voice say.

“Well, well, well, Jack Kline I’ll be damned. Still around eh?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s me don’t cream your pants.” I sassed bluntly at him.

“Saw that you and the kiddies were doing a little trick or treating. That’s nice of you but umm…..what are you supposed to be? A new kid on the block?” I scoffed.

“What do you want Harrison?”

“What can’t a PA come up to check on his superstar?”

“I don’t know what world you live in but (Y/n) fired you last week.”

“Yeah, you see that-that-that’s…..that’s another reason why I came here. See, I personally am the best and most qualified PA that the Rock Angel could ever have. But while we were in Pittsburg, I get a notice saying that I’ve been fired. Now she never told me why so I thought who is more jealous of me and brainwashing the Rock Angel, than her own husband? So—care to explain?”

“Guess you were dropped as a child one too many times.” I walked closer to the front gate and said in Steve’s face. “She got tired of your advancements towards her. My wife isn’t like all other rock stars cause she’s been on the end of the cheating stick. And she knows to not put me or our kids through something like that.”

“Really lives up to her angel name huh?” he smart mouthed me. “Let me tell you though buddy boy. We have fucked with each other, and boy is she a freak in the sheets.” Bullshit I know he’s lying. “We’ve even fucked with each other here at your own house when you were away on business. I mean—who can say no to this?” he gestured to himself.

“You are even worse than we thought. Now do yourself a favor and fuck off Steve before I call the cops.”

“One problem with that amigo.”

“And what’s that? Amigo.” Suddenly I was grabbed by my shirt and a punch went straight through my stomach. I collapsed to the ground and the gate opened up. Steve stood over me and he sneered down.

“The cops are working for me.” I was then kicked in the ribs and I watched in horror as Steve kicked the door in and walked right on in the house.

*3rd Person POV*

As Steve entered the Kline residence, a place he had actually been inside a lot with his uncle on the meetings with (Y/n) to discuss further progress with her albums, brandings, etc. He walked up the stairs and went straight for the master bedroom where Jack and (Y/n) slept.

He looked around as he slowly walked around the bedroom before seeing the closet at the corner of his eyes. He turned towards it and walked right up to it before slowly reaching for the door. With a quick flick, the door was opened but no one was there. He then saw some of (Y/n)’s stuff like her hats and scarves.

He took a red scarf and inhaled it before pocketing it into his back pocket. That’s when he suddenly heard a thump from the corner of the room. That’s when his attention went to the wardrobe. A smirk spread across his face and as he opened it there he saw Kelly, Georgie and Jackson all huddled together.

“Hey kids, whatcha doin in here?”

“Go away! Mommy and daddy don’t like you anymore and neither do we!” Steve laughed at Kelly’s empty demand.

“Kids today. Guess I’m gonna have to teach you some manners little missy.” Suddenly he was turned around and a hard punch sent him down to the ground.

“Daddy!” Kelly cheered.

“Daddy! Daddy!” the boys repeated.

*Jack’s POV*

Like hell I was gonna just sit there and allow Steve to take whatever the hell he wants or worse find the kids. Spitting out some blood I staggered towards the house and walked up the stairs. That’s when I heard Kelly’s voice cry out.

“Mommy and daddy don’t like you anymore and neither do we!”

“Kids today. Guess I’m gonna have to teach you some manners little missy.” Like hell you will! I raced as Steve was talking and immediately grabbed him by the shoulder of his jacket, turned him around and sucker punched him across the face. My kids cried out for me while Steve staggered to stand up.

He soon began laughing before letting out a hoot. His nose bleeding from the punch I just gave him as well as his mouth.

“Looks like I underestimated you farm boy! I took you for a pushover but now I see just what that bitch sees in you! Lion King Jack she likes to call you!”

“Get. Out.” I demanded. Steve chuckled icily and said.

“And what if I don’t?” he spat blood in my face. I then let out a whistle and said two commands.

“Sick. Em.” Soon running past my right leg Sammy attacked Steve at his ankles tripping him over. Sammy maybe all sweet and innocent but when he needs to be (especially since Steve’s been around) he knows when someone needs to get bit.

Steve fell right onto his back as Sammy continued to bite and tear at his pants.

“YOU DAMN DOG!! LET GO!”

“You gonna surrender now?”

“FUCK. YOU!” I let out another whistle and soon barking in aggressively was Bucky. And being a German shepherd he was not holding back. Sammy released Steve’s leg for a moment and allowed his brother to take over.

Bucky bit Steve’s shoulder and tackled him to the ground and I knew he was biting down harder cause Steve’s screams got louder and more painful.

“Boys come!” the boys came back and stood guard of the wardrobe growling and protectively standing guard over my kids. “You wanna test me again or shall I give them a second chance at a new chew toy?”

Even with multiple dog bites, Steve managed to somehow stand up and he glared with pure hatred at me.

“I’ll—I’ll see to it……that those mutts are put down for attacking me. My uncle will hear about this! And I’ll be sure that you’re put away for a long, long time. I know you guys have no cameras in or outside of this house, so no cameras, no proof.” His sick twisting smirk widened across his face.

He staggered out of the bedroom but I heard the sound of him collapsing down to the ground. The dogs immediately went towards him but I didn’t hear any snarling or growling, instead I heard happy whimpering.

“Stay here kids.” I told them as I quickly I came out and I was shocked to see standing before Steve with a baseball bat in her hand was my wife, (Y/n). She panted softly as she dropped the bat and then took out one of our large kitchen knives.

Bucky and Sammy stood guard of the stairs to ensure that Steve didn’t even try to escape and that’s when (Y/n) sneered down at Steve.

“From now on you are no never come near me or my family again. I don’t care what kind of connections you have; we’ve got enough evidence with you in this house without consent and a struggle going on in my very bedroom.”

“Screw you…….bitch.” Steve murmured. Then I witnessed with my own eyes as my wife took that large 7in knife and slam it right down to the floor, very close to Steve’s dick. Any further up and she would’ve removed his very identity as a man.

“SAY YOU UNDERSTAND! Say it. SAY IT!!!” She roared down at him.

“I understand.” He muttered quietly.

“You what?!”

“I understand.” He said a bit louder. Her eyes steaming with hatred and fierce mother instincts stared Steve down as she removed the knife and she looked up to me and simply told me. “Call the police.”

Within minutes the police arrived and Steve was finally arrested. The police took our testimonies and a trial date was set for the 1st of December.

Now as I’m sure my wife as explained I wish we could say that was the last time we’d ever see Steve Harrison in our lives but we underestimated just how fucked up the legal system was here in California.

Thanks to his smooth, fast talking Uncle in trying to bride the judges and the jury, Steve didn’t serve any jail time. Only that he would have a restraining order set against him. By law he wasn’t to get anywhere within 50ft of (Y/n) or our family.

Steve Harrison was once again a free man.

By the start of 1993, my wife was once again trying to contact the judge, police, and any other law enforcement about taking Steve’s advances seriously. But all the same they kept turning her down saying there’s nothing else they can do.

That the restraining order will protect her, and if Steve does violate that then and only then could they talk serious jail time for him.

“Well then I want you guys to do one thing for me, the next time you bastards come to this house will be when my body is dead on the ground with a message in blood saying I told you so!” she hung up the phone and sobbed into her hands.

I slowly walked towards her and hesitantly sat down beside her. God I hate seeing her like this, she’s been worrying herself sick over this while still going on with the tour which will resume after this week.

“I—I don’t know what else to do Jack. I……” I refused to allow her to speak again. I embraced her as tightly as I could and she wept hysterically into my arms. Bucky and Sammy whimpering at our feet with Sammy licking her feet and Bucky nuzzling his head into her lap.

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blazehedgehog · 3 years

Note

What was the honest reaction to Sonic 06 back in 2006?

It was a long time ago, so I can only really speak to my own perspective.

Sonic 2006 was the time that Sega’s marketing department really started cranking the hype train really, really hard. Sonic 2006 was announced as a fresh start. A soft reboot. Sonic Team said they were treating it like “the first Sonic game on the Sega Genesis.” You still had Tails, and Knuckles, and Shadow, but it was the start of a new era. A new type of Sonic the Hedgehog. More serious, more realistic, more “epic.”

At this point, there was no reason to necessarily distrust any of that. Yes, Sonic games had been slipping in quality, and yes, Sega was still more or less pretending that everything was “okay.” But that was always in the typical, “we’re trying to sell a video game and not go bankrupt” sense. This felt like a tacit acknowledgement that things weren’t so great and they were going to start over and refocus. Set things right.

Early gameplay footage looked rough. I distinctly remember a Gametrailers hands-on where they were demoing the Mach Speed Zone in Kingdom Valley, and the Sega representative was very clear and upfront that the game wasn’t done yet, and all of the empty space Sonic was running through would be filled in later. (It wasn’t.) There was also the typical debate over the TGS 2006 “Bringing it Home” playable demo, where people argued then, too, that the game wasn’t done yet, and not to judge things too harshly. The final version will be better.

The final version also wasn’t done yet. So, y’know.

I had effectively bought an Xbox 360 for this game. I was broke as per usual, but I’d gotten lucky and won a Gametrailers video competition, which landed me $1000 in Gamestop gift cards. I bought a PS2, a Nintendo DS, and an Xbox 360, plus more than a dozen games between the three platforms. I knew there would be more Xbox 360 games besides Sonic 2006, and I’d even originally wanted a 360 primarily for Elder Scrolls Oblivion, but the simple fact is that once the money was in my hands and I spent it, Sonic 2006 was the only actual Xbox 360 game I owned.

Or was going to own, anyway. I think I’d won the contest in September or October of 2006, when Sonic came out in November. So I bought the 360 a few weeks early with some original Xbox games, and spent the interim with Spider-man 2, Ninja Gaiden Black, and the copy of Halo 2 I borrowed from my cousin.

Sonic 2006 was the first game I’d ever pre-ordered. The second game, pre-ordered on the same day, was The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess for the Gamecube. I still have the tiny pre-order statue that came with Sonic. His gloves and socks, once white, have begun to yellow with age, and the skin tone on his face and body is turning an ashy gray.

Even 72 hours before launch, there was not a clear picture what Sonic 2006 actually was. Sega was deliberately obfuscating certain features; early in development they’d sworn up and down that there were only three playable characters in the game, something that blatantly wasn’t true. Perhaps it was miscommunication from Japan, but it meant they were now going out of their way to hide how many other playable characters were actually in the game. I naively distrusted most (if not all) professional reviewers back then, and the earliest scores for Sonic 2006 were all over the map.

As a Sonic fan, you kind of had to know how to read between the lines on the more negative reviews, because we were definitely in the era where it felt like critics were starting to dogpile on the Sonic franchise now that Sega was a third party developer. There weren’t a lot of professional reviews you could trust regarding Sonic games, or at least, that’s what it felt like. This was the rise of the podcast, and snarky hosts were taking whatever low hanging fruit they could get.

I remember waking up on launch day -- friends had gotten up early and picked theirs up in the morning, when I’d rolled out of bed somewhere closer to noon (or maybe even afternoon). I had plans to pick up my copy later that evening, after sunset. My friends did not sound happy, but again, there was always this vibe of “Wait and see.” They had only just started the game. First impressions were still too fresh to really call.

But I had this moment, this cold spot in the pit of my stomach, where I thought “Maybe I can cancel the pre-order and get Gears of War instead?” Reviews for Gears seemed pretty good. I’d probably be happy with it instead of Sonic.

I couldn’t let myself do that. I was a Sonic fan. This was the first big Sonic game of a new generation. A new start. I bought the console for this. First game I ever pre-ordered. The second Sonic game in the history of the franchise I’d bought on launch day. This was it. This was the event. No backing down. Besides, Sonic 2006 was a big 15th Anniversary celebration game. They wouldn’t make such a big deal about the anniversary without just cause, right? Sonic 2006 was going to be great. I just needed to calm down.

So we drove out to Gamestop -- and it was the sort of thing where I think we couldn’t do the pre-order at my local Gamestop for some reason, so this one was a town or two over. It was a journey. I was nervous the whole way there. Something told me I was making a mistake. But I had to do this.

I think it may have been starting to rain as we rolled up on the store. It was around 8pm, and people were starting to camp out on the sidewalk. Literally camp out, tents and all, because of the rain. Today was the launch date for Sonic 2006, but tomorrow was the launch of the Playstation 3. These guys were here for Gamestop’s “Midnight Madness” launch event. They were going to be some of the first to get a PS3. I was probably the last person to pick up a Sonic 2006 pre-order.

Sonic 2006 might have been the first Sonic game to ever make me angry. I’d had a lot of internet debates on how I felt about Sonic Adventure 2, but most of those amounted to splitting hairs about things that felt disappointing when compared to the original Sonic Adventure. I was not angry then, I was simply let down. I was similarly let down when I finally got a chance to play Sonic Heroes. But again, not angry. Baffled, maybe. A little sad. But not angry.

With Sonic 2006, I slammed head first in to all of my excitement and uncertainty at 200mph. This was a Sonic game unlike anything I’d ever played before, and in all of the worst possible ways. Enough has been said about the quality of the game that I don’t need to describe anything that’s wrong with it -- also because literally everything was wrong with it. Perhaps the first video game I’d ever played, ever, on any platform, that actually fought back against your efforts to play it. A disaster in every sense of the word. A broken nightmare. After finishing Sonic’s story, I was mad. How could they let this happen? What was wrong with them?

I was less angry after having finished Shadow’s story. Shadow had even buggier gameplay than Sonic, but it also felt more complex, more action-oriented. His story was better, too -- instead of the sappy Princess love story, Shadow’s story was about how the world was against him, and the crossroads that brought him to: rise above his past and strive to be a better person, or give in to the temptations of evil? It was still dumb as heck, but it was less dumb than Sonic’s story.

By the time the credits rolled, I had accepted the fact that this game was a mess. More of a mess than any Sonic game ever had been before. It was clearly a deeply unfinished game. Friends theorized maybe they could patch the game, because that was a thing games could get now. Sonic 2006 could still be saved. The PS3 version wouldn’t be out for another month, surely that means they’re working on a fix, right? Some were even theorizing over an achievement called “Nights of Kronos” -- it mentioned a “complete ending to the last hidden story.” Perhaps that meant there was going to be more? Maybe we got the bad ending, and a better, more finished ending was waiting for us on the disc somewhere?

There wasn’t. And no patch ever fixed the game. That was Sonic 2006 -- the kiss, the loading screens, the strange mannequin NPCs, the stiff controls, the glitchy physics, the empty overworlds, the bizarre dialog, the plotholes and time paradoxes, that’s just what the game was, and was always going to be, forever.

Before Sonic 2006, you could say that 3D Sonic games were bad, but there was always a place to defend them from. They had problems, but they were never irredeemable. Sonic Heroes may have had frustrating controls and repetitive level design, but it had great art direction, nice music, and fun concepts. They were always trying, dang it, and it was obvious to see that.

Sonic 2006 felt irredeemable. Offensively terrible. A failure on such a level that it was hard to comprehend. Beyond simply “a new low” for the franchise. This felt like rock bottom. It was the kind of bad that spread like a virus. Even good games, like Sonic 2 on the Sega Genesis, felt notably tarnished by the existence of Sonic 2006. It threatened to ruin the entire franchise by proximity alone. For some, it probably did. I definitely had a moment where I wondered if I would ever enjoy a Sonic game in the same way ever again. They were all tainted now. Infected by memories of Sonic 2006, the game that was supposed to save the franchise, but condemned it to the lowest pits of hell.

In isolation, that might have been the end for me. I might have continued to drift away, bit by bit, until I found greener hills outside of the Sonic franchise.

I’ve said this before, but what saved me was getting hired to write for TSSZ News. Now, suddenly, I was paid to play and write about Sonic games. It was a duty. And it helped that the first Sonic game I reviewed for TSSZ ended up being Sonic Unleashed, a game I continue to openly gush about to this day, more than a decade after its release.

But never forget that Sonic 2006 was such a disaster that it nearly made me give up Sonic the Hedgehog. It really was that bad.

#questions #sonic the hedgehog #sega #sonic 2006 #tssz news #Anonymous

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7-wonders · 4 years

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As Above, So Below Ch. 23

Summary: Your average, mundane life as a college student is flipped upside down when the man you thought you knew as your next-door neighbor turns out to be the God of the dead. When Michael lures you down to Hell, everything that you thought you knew about the world is proven wrong.

Word Count: 2512

A/N: Hi friends! I do believe that this is the last chapter for AASB. Believe me, I’m just as sad as you, but this feels like a natural conclusion. And don’t worry, there will be another “book,” but this is the end of this one. Thank you all so much for sticking with me on this journey, and for giving me so much love and support.

Soft touches on your face serve as your alarm clock this morning, your mind and body waking up to the feeling of featherlight kisses all over your skin. Fluttering your eyes open, you smile when you meet a pair of adoring blue eyes twinkling back at you. Neither of you have left Michael’s chambers for the past two days, and you have to admit that being lavished with affection by the love of your life is something that you quickly got used to. You could honestly spend an eternity in bed with Michael, which is why it’s so easy for the days to slip away. This small vacation, unfortunately, must end.

“Good morning, darling mine,” Michael mutters against your lips, making you sigh contentedly as you lazily stroke his hair.

“This is certainly better than a traditional wake-up call.”

“Then I guess I shall have to wake you up like this every day.”

“Is that a promise?” You squeal with laughter when Michael’s hand brushes up your side, accidentally tickling you.

“Absolutely.” His hand continues to trail up the length of your body, eventually landing under a pillow as he searches for something. “I have a gift for you.”

“Michael, you’ve already given me so much,” you groan, still not used to the exorbitant gifts he’s fond of giving you.

“I’d give you all the stars in the sky, if I could. Just let me spoil you, alright?” You want to at least attempt to argue this point, but Michael makes it nearly impossible when every single touch conveys his undying love for you.

“Fine. What is it?”

Sitting up in bed, you let the blankets fall to your lap as you watch Michael fiind what he’s looking for and conceal it in his hand. His fingers fall open, allowing you to see the ring that’s sitting in his palm. It’s beautiful, with diamonds encrusted along the rose gold band. The top of the ring looks almost like a flower, and a large opal sits at the center. Light glints off of the stone, making it look as if it’s reflecting rainbows at you.

“Oh, Michael,” you trail, in awe of how stunning the ring is.

“I know that wedding rings are custom for mortal unions, and I wanted you to have a piece of your heritage.” He looks at you as he holds the ring between his fingers, waiting for you to nod before he slips it on your ring finger. “Hephaestus crafted the band from hellfire, and all of the gems are from Above.”

“Both of us are represented,” you grin at the realization, tearing your eyes away from the jewelry adorning your finger to beam at Michael. “I love it so much.”

“Do you really? Because we can always redesign it, if need be.”

You stop him from continuing that thought by kissing him. “It’s perfect, and everything I could have ever wanted in a ring.”

“Nothing could be as perfect as you, but I am glad that you think it comes close.”

“I love you,” you kiss him gratefully, “despite your horrendous one-liners.”

Michael slaps a hand over his chest to feign offense. “‘Horrendous?’ I happen to think that they’re clever.”

“If that’s what you want to call it,” you tease, trailing off when Michael picks up your hand and begins to kiss the back of it before running a finger delicately around your new ring. “So...what now?”

“Elaborate for me, love.”

“When you proposed to me,”

“Which was mere days ago,” Michael interjects with a grin.

“You had mentioned that it wouldn’t be a traditional marriage or anything like that. So who decides we’re married? I’m assuming there’s no immortal justice of the peace or an Olympus records office we have to go to to fill out a marriage certificate.”

“That’s where the problem lies. Most other gods and goddesses have been married for thousands of years, or they just aren’t married at all. We’re quite the anomaly.”

You groan. “Why do we always have to be the first? Couldn’t somebody else have defeated Satan and gotten married before us?”

“I suppose all that really makes it official is Violet’s approval of our union, since she’s the goddess of marriage. However, I can’t help but feel that’s very anticlimactic, and not the sort of beginning to a marriage that you deserve.”

Although your knowledge of weddings isn’t very vast, it does allow you to come up with an idea that Michael just might approve of. “Do you know what eloping is?”

No matter how many times you’ve elaborated on the informality aspect of an elopement, Michael is endearingly (or annoyingly; you haven’t decided yet) persistent on the idea of following the traditions of mortal weddings. Thus, the garden that Michael created for you has been deemed the site for the ceremony. Madison, Zoe, and Thanatos are the only “guests” invited, although you did tell Desa that she was more than welcome to join the festivities. Violet will act as, for lack of a better word, the officiant for this affair. Michael had even tried to insist that the dress follow the white color scheme, which is ironic because he should know better than anyone that you’re not “pure” like the color symbolizes. You do settle for a cream-colored dress with a lace overlay that falls down to your ankles and forms to every curve and dip of your body.

You want nothing more than to get this over with so that you can just be married to Michael, but everyone’s extremely excited about the first wedding to be held in a few millennia. Where you would have thought your friends would back you up on Michael’s quirkiness when it comes to the ceremony that’s supposed to be impromptu, they’re more than happy to help Michael with fulfilling any of his ideas for the wedding. This includes the groom not seeing the bride prior to the marriage, which is the most difficult aspect of this whirlwind of a wedding.

“(Y/N), are you ready?” Madison asks, knocking on the door. Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you do a quick check to make sure that everything is exactly how you want it to look.

“Yes, but I think the question is if Michael is ready?” Madison opens the door, gasping when she sees you. “Seriously, I thought the bride was supposed to be the difficult one, not the groom.”

“Oh, you look so beautiful,” Madison coos, her hands falling on your shoulders as she gazes at you. “You almost make me want to wear white.”

“The highest of compliments,” you note, grinning at her through the mirror.

“I know that I’ve known Michael a lot longer, but I swear that if he hurts you in the slightest way I will kill him multiple times, in a variety of equally painful ways, until you deem that he’s suffered enough.” It doesn’t sound like a nice thing in the slightest, but this is the closest to sentimental that Madison can get.

“That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me!” You let out a delighted shriek when Madison throws her arms around you, hugging you tightly.

“I just--I really…”

“It’s okay,” you nod. “I know, and I love you too.”

“Thank you for not making me say it,” Madison mutters into your shoulder.

“You’ll get there eventually.” You pull away from Madison’s embrace, stifling a laugh as she tries to reassume her stone-cold bitch demeanor. “How’s Michael? He hasn’t run away yet or anything?”

“If anything, we’ve had to keep him from breaking his own rule and coming in to see you.”

“Well, I guess we shouldn’t keep him waiting too much longer, then.”

Madison takes your hand, making sure she didn’t mess up your outfit before walking with you towards the garden. “Wait ten seconds after I walk out, and then you can go.”

“Why ten?”

“So that all the attention is rightfully on you,” Madison smirks, opening the doors and walking through the garden like she’s walking a catwalk at Paris Fashion Week.

Counting in your head, you try to sneak a glance at Michael before the moment comes for you to officially see each other. While you can’t see him, you do notice the beautiful job that your guests did at decorating the garden. Twinkling lights are everywhere, and the sky has been charmed with a sunset that looks as if it’s been painted up there. The flowers are in full bloom, with some of the larger plants blooming in such abundance that they create an aisle. When ten seconds pass, you take a deep breath and step outside.

You were never the type of girl to imagine your wedding growing up. In nursery school, when your classmates were playing wedding and house, you were more focused on building mini empires with Legos. As you got older and social media was factored into life, friends would have wedding Pinterest boards full of images of their idea of a “perfect” wedding. It was trivial, you believed, just girls conjuring a fantasyland. Besides, most of their weddings would be marred with ugly memories of fighting or divorce, and these ideas would just serve as a letdown.

Walking down the path to where Madison, Zoe, Thanatos, and Violet are gathered around your soon-to-be husband, you can see the appeal in the picture-perfect wedding. After all, this surely must be the affair that people have in mind when they think about their potential wedding. Seeing Michael standing mere feet away from you, exquisitely dressed in black and red with one of his expensive cloaks, is sheer perfection. He smiles when he lays his eyes on you, and you can see the breath leave his body as he gasps. You bite your lip, the intensity of his gaze spreading heat throughout your entire body.

“Hi,” you say shyly, taking his large hands as you face him.

“You’re the most divine being I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on,” he whispers reverently, like you’re the god instead of him.

“Hey lovebirds,” Madison chimes in, “you can undress each other with your eyes after this union has been blessed.”

“I’m sure we’ll be doing a lot more than that later, but thank you Madison,” Michael smirks as your eyes widen.

“Violet?” Your voice comes out as little more than a squeak, so you clear your throat and try again. “Are you ready to start?”

Violet’s glowing as she smiles at you, obviously thriving off of the marital excitement that hangs in the air. “Well, I’m extremely honored to be the one to oversee this marriage between two souls who are very dear to my heart. Before I get to blessing this union, I understand that Michael has some words he wants to say to his bride?”

You look at Michael in surprise; as far as you were aware, this was supposed to be a quick event.

“I apologize for not telling you that I was planning this, but then you would have come up with a speech of your own, and this is supposed to be about you.” You scrunch up your nose, not wanting to ruin his moment by interjecting. “For the entirety of my existence, I have been led to believe that I wasn’t capable of loving, or of being loved. I’m the God of the Dead, and I see the very worst of humanity. If I serve as the ‘Grim Reaper,’ why should I have people who love me? It was an assumption that I fought against for a long time, but you eventually begin to believe what people constantly tell you over long periods of time.

“All I had ever known was death, anger, and darkness. But then I met you, and you immediately brought color to my world. That color may have been your colorful language as you cursed out the grocery bags you were carrying, but it was color nonetheless. From the very beginning, you’ve captivated me every time I had the pleasure of laying my eyes on you. You’re intoxicating, a drug that I’m addicted to and have no intention of quitting. Getting to know you and love you has been one of the greatest pleasures of my life, which has been very long.”

You attempt to release one of your hands from Michael’s grasp so you can wipe away the tears that you can feel flowing down your face, but Michael beats you to it and uses his thumb to get rid of the tears. “These are happy tears, I promise,” you say with a laugh upon seeing a concerned look on his face.

“Good.” He kisses the back of your hand before picking up where he left off. “I could go on about all of the different ways that I love you, and though we now have all the time in the world for me to do so, I won’t bore those who would become an unwilling audience. For now, I will say that you are not my other half, for there wasn’t just a piece of me missing without you. You are the entirety of my soul. I’m not sure how I managed to function before you, and I know for certain that I would not be able to live if I were to be without you. I absolutely adore you, (Y/N). I love you more than I ever dreamed it was possible to love another thing, and I am so utterly thrilled that you have chosen me to be yours.”

“I love you,” you say earnestly, surging forward to kiss him. When you’re stopped by a hand on your shoulder, you groan.

“Sorry, but you have to wait just a little bit longer before you can kiss your groom,” Violet says with a laugh.

“You people live to make me miserable,” you mutter.

“Well then, we better hurry this up, huh?” Violet’s eyes twinkle with mirth. “As the goddess of marriage, I, Hera, hereby bless the union between (Y/N) and my brother, Hades. May your marriage be full of love, laughter, and prosperity until the end of time.”

“Go ahead and kiss!” Zoe calls out, nearly bouncing on her toes in excitement.

Michael looks at you with a devious smirk, grabbing you before you can even begin to question what he’s scheming. He dips your body until you’re almost parallel to the ground, surging down to meet you with a searing kiss. Whoops and hollers sound from around you, but all you can focus on is the feeling of your husband pressed up against you.

“Wow,” you say breathlessly when he finally releases you, “that just might top every other kiss we’ve ever shared.”

Michael laughs heartily, the sound bringing pure joy to your heart, as he kisses you again, this time more chastely. “I love you.”

“I love you too, husband.”

Standing in the middle of your garden, newly married and basking in wedded bliss, the God of the Dead has never felt so alive.

Taglist: @brieababy @ladyrindt @nana15774 @queencocoakimmie @sammythankyou @girlycakepops @trimbooohgodplsnoooo @lichellaw @ajokeformur-ray @pastel-cloudz @ultragibbycentralworld @grim-adventures58 @dandycandy75 @dolceandchalamet @everything-is-awesomesauce @langdonslove @ccodyfern @consultingsnowqueen @readsalot73 @jimmlangdon @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @hplotrfan @omg-hellgirl @gallxntdean @storminmytwistedmind @venusxxlangdon @kahhlo @antichristwrites @forgetting5sos @sadsadiesworld @born-on-stgeorges-day @hecohansen31 @michaelsapostle @izuniias @grippleback-galaxy @souriemickey @lvngdvns @hecatemacbeth7 @aangrana @hexqueensupreme @hoeposey @goblackcat69 @kingbouji3 @nsainmoonchild @blakewaterxx @taytum157 @rpwithjayn @strawberry-icings @dark-mei-rose

#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon imagines #michael langdon x reader #american horror story #american horror story imagines #american horror story imagine #american horror story #AHS #ahs imagine #ahs imagines #ahs apocalypse #ahs apocalypse imagine #michael langdon au #hades and persephone au

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pernatius · 3 years

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Lost in Space Part 6: Ch 2

Ch 1

Summary: With the fate of the universe resting in her hands, an unnamed Space Explorer and Saamuki first must find Syco to get back their friends.

Lost in Space on Tumblr

Lost in Space on ao3

A swig of alcohol later and Saamuki throws the curtains open and storms out of there with me trying to catch up. Somehow with being both tipsy and shorter than me she’s able to make quite a distance. As I try to catch my breath in front of the pacing Saamuki, I curiously pressed, “What’s up north?”

It takes her a moment to answer, either because she faded me out or that she’s no longer sober, “Big festival. Definitely not for me. Explains why this planet has become a ghost planet.”

“But Sakhra is there. Isn’t he? We have to go.”

“I know. I know we do, but why did this have to happen today? Ugh. Okay. Let me just compose myself. Give me a moment.” A few, long breaths and her talking to herself, a long awkward moment of me looking at the sand around us, and she’s leading me to where the festival is. It was several lengthy, empty roads and alleyways, and me having to hold my breath because three of them were a tight squeeze. At least the trip wasn’t as long as the labyrinth underneath Cabelo’s hotel and I had actual scenery rather than dusty, muddy bricks with some sort of greenish substance. They were structures. They were buildings. They were homes. It was interesting to see how these people lived because as I said before they are just like anyone else. They lived like how any other person would live in these conditions. Some homes were five-stories. Most were either one- or two-stories. Each held a different shape. There were ones with a round roof, others had the classic triangular roof and some were super creative by going the extra mile of concave roofs. Each held a different personality that probably represented their owners. All were made out of a mixture of rock and mud. By the time we reached the outskirts of the town, we were greeted by the mouth of a small cave that sloped downward at about a forty-five-degree angle. Swinging the staff across the gaping darkness, I see another hole shooting straight down. “It’s up north then down south,” I commented.

She turns to me, revealing a blush, and laughs. Saamuki laughs like it’s actually funny. Like it’s the best joke she’s ever heard before. I’m not a comedian as I have a poor sense of humor, so I know it wasn’t funny at all. She wipes away her tears of joy before nudging me to head in with her.

The ladder wasn’t cold. It didn’t feel like it was never going to end, but I still struggled to keep my grip because of all the dirt and mud sticking onto it. By the time we hop off, I note the lanterns hanging along the walls of the cave and the stream, which has a golden glow because of the lights above, between us as I shake off the mess on my hands. That feeling I always get when something bad is about to happen hits me. I don’t hesitate to point the staff in front of me, but Saamuki doesn’t hesitate to go on ahead. I follow her with my grip tightened with a bit of hesitation in my footsteps.

When Saamuki said big she really meant big. It was packed. It was as if twice as many people who were usually at the flea market were all in here, stuffed in the cave. Although, calling it a festival is an understatement. You’d assume it would be a celebration filled with merriment like laughter and smiles, but nope. Everyone in here is unusually, eerily quiet with their heads down underneath a thick, black robe. We were the outliers, but no one paid any mind to us. They remained pointed forward. Pointed forward at what I had no idea. The tallest seemed to be standing in the back, unintentionally making an unwavering wall. Saamuki grumbles and looks around. She then takes my hand and leads me to one of the only open spots in this place. “This will take a bit,” she explained to me.

Because of all the crampedness, it felt like a sauna. I tugged my collar, hoping some cold air would shimmy down underneath and cool my sweating chest. It did, but not as much as I hoped.

A figure stepped onto a makeshift podium. “It’s been six months since we placed that torch. It’s been six months since her murder. She was killed by a Space Pirate. She was one of our own. No, she was one of the greatest among us, yet they’ve forgotten about her.” Getting who he was talking about, I take a glance at the lip-biting Saamuki. “Brothers and Sisters, they have let us live, or so they would like us to believe. They claim it’s for balance. Well, that balance is shifting. It’s becoming clear that they’re no longer needed. It is only a matter of time before the Lords come looking for our children, our lovers, and ourselves. They’re killing us off one by one, yet it is only now we take notice. For centuries we have been their lackeys, their slaves. We’ve always done their dirty work. We never questioned once because we were blinded by the gifts, the freedom. No longer shall we live this way. No longer shall we let them control us. True freedom is not one built on fear. Brothers and sisters, it is time we rise. The time is now. There is no better time than now. Their most precious pets are at war with each other as we speak.”

“Brother, they will listen to us for some things, but not for this. They will massacre all of us within a blink of an eye,” a voice from the crowd replied.

“Sister, what are rulers without followers? A hundred of us they will slaughter without a thought, but thousands of us is a different story. One voice is a whisper. Ten voices is a mutter. A hundred is heard, but not listened to. A thousand is a call to action.”

Another voice from the crowd countered, “Even if we wanted to, brother, we don’t have the supplies to stage such a theatrical war and we especially don’t have the manpower. Most of us are well over the age of action. This includes you, brother. Besides, we can’t just leave our children unattended if all goes south.”

“That is true, brother, but that’s why I ask for all of you to bury down your pride and seek the help of the public. Billions of voices can not be unheard. Brothers and sisters, it is time we act before it’s too late. They are feared because we let them be feared. We feed into the power they have, but power is a belief. It cannot be touched, but it can be broken. You and many others in this room know that is true.”

A wave of whispers and hushes filled the room. A voice broke through the sound with a shout. Anger then erupted. Arguments had awakened. Then, as quickly as it came it all quieted. Silence filled the room. A single, familiar-looking hand is then raised. Everyone around eyed him. The owner of the hand had spoken, “I will join the cause that affects all of us, brother. I stand by your offer without any hesitation.”

“Classic Sakhra,” Saamuki mumbled with a smirk and a still blushing face.

Of course, when one person confidently makes their voice heard then others are bound to join in. One by one everyone in the room is recruited. The last one to raise their hand, with what I think is an eye roll and an exaggerated swinging of his arm, is the man that tried deterring the announcer.

The announcer started again, “With that settled, let us drink.” Everyone cheered and Saamuki turned around and covered her ears. Right when I’m about to question what had gotten her so disgusted with what’s just a town hall meeting, two cloaked figures threw a tied up, whimpering body in front of the announcer. The body couldn’t be any younger than the other prisoner on the Trauvox ship. Whoever this new character is clearly has seen war. They’re wearing a ripped, navy blue uniform and a tad of white with bloodstains. Purple spots have grown over where blood has been splattered. What was once pure white has now turned into a pinkish handkerchief. Their puffy pants, which are mostly tucked into their knee-high, dark brown boots, have battle scars of their own. Tears and scratches have made their name on them as well. The announcer bends down. “Speak, child. Let your voice be heard,” he continued.

The soldier doesn’t even take a glance at the man above him. Instead, they try to struggle free. Clearly, they’re outnumbered. If they were to loosen the rope tying them down just enough for at least one of their arms to be free they’d be welcomed to an onslaught of getting their ass beat by hundreds. They’re weaponless, I need to add. I don’t know what sort of training they’ve gone through, but it didn’t train their common sense. Maybe the type of training they went through suppressed it to outweigh honor. Maybe they’d rather die fighting than be at the announcer's mercy. Maybe it’s just the youth talking.

Because they failed to answer, the announcer gets up and slams his foot into the soldier’s chest. I hear the sounds of ribs cracking as the soldier cries and spits out blood. My knuckles turned white because of how tight my grip on the staff has become. I try fighting myself. I want to go and help him. It sickened me seeing this type of excessive treatment, but at the same time, I know that doing so would probably get me to wind up like him. Saamuki tells me, “I know, but it’ll be all over soon. Just wait.”

He’s beaten—bloody nose and teeth, a split lip, and twitching hands. He stammers out as his collar is about to give in from underneath the clutch of the announcer’s hand, “B-Battalion five. I’m from battalion five of Quadrant Forty. I’m just a private. P-Please, have mercy.”

With that, the collar gives in. The private falls with a hard thud. Again, the announcer lowers. This time the private flinches when he speaks. “Ah, now was that so hard?” The beaten, young soldier shakes his head. “Good, but, unfortunately, it took you this long for you to crack. Most last far longer. One lasted a whole week. His lips remained shut even as we ripped each of his nails. Although, and of course, I didn’t beat him for every second that week. Even we get tired of torturing, but you’re just a private. Still, you’ve given your life to the Lords and that means you represent fascism.”

“If you want intel I don’t have any. They don’t tell us anything.”

“Yes, I already know, but that’s not why you’re here before us. Also, I didn’t ask you to speak.” The announcer slaps the soldier right across his face. A tooth is shot out and rolls off the podium and into the crowd. “You’re here to honor a friend’s six month death anniversary.”

His torturer moves his hand into his cloak and pierces a dagger into the soldier's stomach. Forcing the blade to go right through the soldier, the soldier gags and starts shaking. Then, he returns to screaming when the weapon is slid upwards. When my eyes meet with his guts and especially a beating heart, that’s when I gag. As blood is sprayed out and his organs topple to the floor, the announcer kicks him into the crowd. They pile on top of him and in the most horrific way to die they feast on the barely living, young man. Saamuki throws up with her back still turned to what now appears to be a cult. The announcer licks the soldier’s blood off of his hands and then his weapon as his followers rip right through and consume the private. It’s as if they haven’t eaten in days. It’s as if they’re wild animals rather than people. My insides are empty, yet I feel like I still have something to puke up. At least it didn’t last for long, but I, unfortunately, learned why Saamuki was so hesitant to come here.

#205 #lost in space #writers on tumblr #writers #writeblr #creative writing #my writing #spilled ink #fiction #scifi #wlw #space

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emeraldinthesky · 4 years

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STRANGE TRAILS - Chapter 2 - Kiss for the Dead

Victoria was smoking by the backdoor: it was about mid-morning, and they hadn't slept since their departure from the headquarters. The dark circles under her eyes were more prominent than ever, and her facial features appeared almost stretched by gravity. She took a long, lazy drag from her cigarette but when that gesture yielded no results, she searched the pocket of her lab coat for her lighter. The flame danced around in the moist wind then vanished under the metal lid of the zippo. She stared ahead, now with smoke-filled lungs, although she could hardly make out any detail of the wooden, pine-y area at the back of the building. The air was fresh, although she knew it would only give her a more difficult time to readjust to the pungent scent of rotting flesh she'd gotten so used to in the past few hours. They were certainly past the tricky part: that hour of the night when they are both unable to verbalize their thoughts, as if fatigue saw shut their mouths. These were usually the minutes the investigation came to a painful halt - painful, because they weren't making progress, and that also meant they couldn't go to sleep anytime soon. Their colleagues, Chris and Jeremy chose that very time to return to the hotel and catch up on some sleep. Albert was somewhat sore about it, but Vicky didn't bat an eye; if they're ready with their work, by all means, they shouldn't stay for the entertainment of two (frustrated) pantomimes. Luckily, that period passed just half an hour after the boys left, and since then, they were bouncing ideas off each other, at some point resorting to grotesque and eccentric reenaction of the crime. The denier checked on them, only to spin around and leave the very next second.

It has barely been minutes since she was away. Of course, she had met the doctor and two other men down the hallway, but it never occurred to her that she would arrive back to an already escalated fight, or that their investigation was going to be cut short. Cooper and the Sheriff were already there and Vicky could hear the arguing from the end of the hallway – and stepping into a room filled with angry men pointing at each other sure made her consider taking a longer break. However, it changed instantly when she learned about the reason. '...Cuff him!' Albert insisted, instructing the agent. 'He won't release Laura's body to the funeral. He's not human.' Doctor Hayward opposed as he was joined by Harry. The woman knew this was only fuel to the fire; she heard enough of Albert's doubts about the sheriff's mental capacity, and just as she expected, her boss was quick to voice his opinion. It happened in the blink of an eye, and the forensic scientist received a punch from the town sheriff, that sent him right on top of the DB in question. Cooper sent his new colleague out to the car, and Victoria took the opportunity to soften – and potentially talk some sense into – the agent. 'Look, Dale, I don't like to agree with Albert.' She began after rushing up to him. 'But we can't properly perform an autopsy in a day.' 'Vicky, this funeral is important to the people. They need it to pay their respect to their passed loved one.' The black-haired man explained. He remained calm and spoke with a gentler tone, so she knew she could still persuade him into another couple hours or even a day. 'I know, but is the ritual more important than finding out the truth?' She darted back, trying with all her consciousness left to keep her voice quiet and decent. Apparently, she failed. 'Miss Davis.' Cooper's voice changed uncharacteristically authoritative, and his posture became more erect. 'We need the body to be handed over to the funeral. You knew the time limit before you started your work.' The woman's face turned bright red, even under the paleness from the all-nighter. Her brown eyes turned darker and despite the glasses, Cooper would've sworn to feel little sparks darting off from them into his direction - and not the type he enjoyed. 'Oh, I hope you'll have a time limit on your work once.' She muttered without batting an eye, but then refocused her attention to the old doc. 'Please, give us a second to clean up the body so we can hand it over in proper shape.' She asked in a surprisingly respectful, calm manner, then turned to Mr Horne investigating the corpse. 'Sir, Mr...?' 'Horne.' The man replied. 'Mr. Horne. Remind me again why are you here?' 'I am the representative of Laura Palmer's family in their absence.' 'Splendid. Then with all due respect: leave and don't come in 'till I say so.' Then, she spun around to her now a bit disheveled superior. 'Albert, you give me that or God sees my soul I'll drill a hole into your forehead.' 'You'll need my help if you want to be ready by noon.' The forensic pathologist pointed out. 'You won't be any help if you keep screwing around.' Vicky retorted. Cooper left the autopsy room with a mischievous smile on his face, keeping down a chuckle as he walked back to the police car. He knew he was somewhat responsible for the scene that escalated from the other, and he admittedly enjoyed how bossy Victoria was able to be, even around men; or especially around men. She'd singlehandedly put all grown men in the room to their place, and she was the only one that could manage Albert's behaviour - but, truth to be told, Coop feared he would be the next in line for his attitude. He did phone her after returning to the Great Northern the night before, to invite her to the funeral, but after this slip of his, he doubted she would join them in the cemetery.

Even when Albert delivered the reports and results in the conference room, she was nowhere to be found; this definitely signaled to Dale that he might have overstepped a line, because Victoria was eager to attend to these meetings - she often did more than analysing the evidence before her, peeking behind the curtains. The red velvet ones. Although they weren't always so glamourous. However, it was only the sour scientist, describing their findings while not missing one single opportunity to make a foul remark which ultimately prompted the sheriff to storm out of the room. Dale took this opportunity to enquire about the current state of the woman in question (interestingly, that not being Laura Palmer) - or rather his state on her dashboard. 'Why weren't you joined by Miss Davis?' 'Oh, you two had a quarrel alright if both of you call each other by their last name.' Albert noted with his usual, straight face. Cooper knew this spelled trouble: she rarely resorted to referring to him by his surname; not to him, specifically, but to others, unless they were in a stiff or unfamiliar setting. Her boss, however weird that sounds, did not check that box. 'So she's angry?' The agent insisted. 'I've been having my ass kicked since you stepped out of the morgue if that answers your question.' The other man admitted. 'Coop, even I wouldn't take that entitled authoritarian handling from you lightly. And it is quite unlike you to begin with.' 'You're right, Albert.' The other nodded. 'I don't know what got into me.' 'Anyway, make amends with her as soon as possible, because she takes the case from here.' 'What do you mean?' 'She's getting a promotion.' The scientist explained. 'Only a formality, but this is her test run. You two will have to work closely together so it's better to be on speaking terms.' 'I don't argue she well deserves one, but I admit, this promotion seems quite out of the blue for me. Did something happen I didn't know about?' The black-haired man insisted, a strange feeling twisting his stomach and chest. He wasn't short of fleeting theories, yet his reaction was primarily emotional - and he was feeling worse than at the beginning of this conversation. 'Seemed like the right time to me.' The scientist shrugged.

***

A Ford pickup parked just by the cemetery and the mourning crowd; its light blue upper section was still shining clean, but the darker-toned half was covered in dust and dirt. One would have expected a tall, well-built man to step out from the driver's seat, but instead, a young woman dressed in a long black dress emerged; although much of her attire was covered with an elegant coat that cut off mid-calf. Her shiny high heels dug deep into the moist ground as she hopped out of the car. She had her dirty blond hair up in a tight french twist to cover her unkempt locks, and her makeup made you forget she had just arrived there from more than 24 hours spent above a dead body - the very corpse they were about to hoist to the ground. Cooper's eyes must have lingered on her longer than they should have, as the sheriff nudged him from his left. 'Friends, are we?' He asked with a knowing smile. Vicky joined them, after Cooper gestured her to stand by his side. He put his arm around her shoulder - he knew she would probably faint into the grave gaping before them otherwise. Little he knew of the coming scene. Audrey shot a jealous look towards the pair; her blue eyes were ice-cold and ready for the kill. A poisonous feeling emerged from her heart and she puffed her face in anger, slightly pouting her mouth. It was almost unacceptable that someone, almost ten years older than her, could blow her out of the picture. Yet it wasn't the teenage beauty starting the scene, but Bobby Briggs as he caught glimpse of the biker his late girlfriend was seeing behind his back. The tragic gathering took a turn for the grotesque, the whole turmoil culminating into the father falling on top of the coffin and the levers misfunctioning at the worst possible time.

It was the second man falling on top of the poor dead girl that day.

After the mayhem died down, the agent accompanied his colleague to her truck: 'Miss Davis, can I interest you in a coffee at the Double R? You have to try that pie.' 'Only if you quit calling me Miss Davis.' Vicky smiled back, and from the mischievous twinkle in her eyes, it was oblivious that she was open for reconciliation. 'You're staying in Twin Peaks?' Cooper asked as she hopped into her car. 'Since Albert refuses to.' Vicky smiled then gestured to the man. 'Hop in, Coop.'

As they stepped into the diner, the agent had his arm around her waist. Although he barely even touched her, it was a gesture that bordered being protective, defending her from the weather and her slim figure from the curious eyes of other men. They unconsciously leaned in towards each other, already laughing loudly at an earlier case; the woman was never able to stay mad at him for long. She faintly pushed his chest away as she walked up to the counter, and Cooper followed, sitting down by her side on a barstool. 'Your wife, Agent Cooper?' Norma asked as she placed the clean white cups in front of them. 'Oh, I wish!' The man replied with a wide smile. 'Victoria Davis, forensic pathologist. She came to help me investigate the Palmer girl's case; an extremely skilled investigator I'm happy to have on my team.' 'So you'll stay with us, Miss Davis?' Norma turned to her as she served them coffee, filling the empty cups with the hot, dark beverage. The aroma instantly filled the air, and Victoria couldn't help, but inhale a little deeper to fill her lungs with the scent that was much more refined than the one of the coffees at the lab. 'Well, as long as they don't relocate me to somewhere else. I'll assist the Sheriff and Agent Cooper with the forensic evidence.' She explained. 'Now Miss, I haven't slept in two days and this man promised me a pie. What would you suggest?' 'I'd recommend the blueberry pie, fresh from the oven.' The woman in the turquoise dress replied in her usual, melodic tone. She was always a delight, and seemingly found joy in the playful conversation, but especially now, it was as if she was up to something. 'Sounds perfect. Two slices, please.' Cooper ordered, and Norma left with a smile.

'I'm glad you came to the funeral.' The man said as he took the cup into his hand. 'It was an experience. I've seen men mourning their daughters, but this was quite a spectacle. Seems like this whole town gone crazy by this tragedy.' 'There really is something, isn't there?' 'The poor girl can't even rest peacefully in the ground, that's for sure.' The blonde eyed the steaming coffee ahead of her. 'She couldn't on the autopsy table either.' 'You mean Albert?' She finally turned to Coop. 'You know how he is. He's tired from the car ride here, we pulled an all-nighter and now he's throwing a tantrum like a kid when you try to tear his toys from him.' Cooper chuckled and took a sip of his coffee. His eyes wandered to her hands that were lazily caressing the edge of the cup. 'You look lovely.' He said, and they both paused for a moment when they caught each other's gaze. 'And you are sharp as always.' She smiled back. A brief silence settled between them: the woman turned her attention the brown beverage before her as if she was staring into a crystal ball - and indeed, her eye colour matched the shade of the coffee so perfectly, it could have easily been mistaken for a mirror. Coop eyed her intently, but with patience; and admittedly, he reexplored her features since they last met a month ago, still in the burning deserts of Nevada. Her skin hanged onto some of the gold freckles obtained under the bright sun (or she visited home in-between, but he brushed that idea from his head), and the scar on her neck was still faintly pink. Her hands were dry from the weather and the endless handwashing, fingernails cut short without any nail polish, and nothing on her fingers beside that small birthmark on her left index finger. A scent of amber, spices and orange lingered around her; the very perfume that enchanted him at their first handshake. She was the same woman he said goodbye to in Las Vegas, but something seemed different besides her tired posture. 'Vicky, is everything alright?' He asked and his voice gave away how worried he was. 'Oh, yeah. Sorry I just zoned out… You know how it is.' 'Are things going well?' 'I'd say so.' She nodded after taking a premature, hot sip of her coffee. 'There're just… Many things going on at the same time.' 'I've heard they offered you a promotion.' 'They did. I haven't accepted it just yet. We agreed that this case would be a sort of… Test.' She was twirling a cigarette around in her hand, then turned to Cooper without lighting it. 'You, on the other hand. Seems like you enjoy your stay here.' Vicky pointed out, her attitude much more easygoing now. 'I do!' The agent exclaimed. 'Have you seen those tall trees? Douglas firs.' 'They're mighty for sure.' She agreed as the pies were placed in front of them, and they both gave Norma an enthusiastic smile of gratitude. 'They look like they could reach the sky. And I did miss a little greenery in Las Vegas.' 'That was one hell of a Christmas.' He nodded as he took a bite of the pie. 'I wasn't this excited on Christmas Eve since I was 7.' Vicky became much more enthusiastic, especially since the combination of caffeine and sugar hit her bloodstream - and also, since she was having a lighthearted conversation with her best friend; all four of which, minus the caffeine, were missing from her everydays. 'Well, the New Year's Eve of the last year of the decade was certainly memorable.' 'Yes, you were like James Bond.' She joked nudging him from the side. 'Although you weren't able to sport this tan coat there. Is that why you prefer this climate?' 'There is something intangible about this place that makes me gravitate towards it. The people here; they are simple yet there's so much complexity and warmth. I haven't experienced this combination anywhere else.' He took a sip of his coffee. 'This town. It's so mundane, and the people living in it are so - human. I have grown to consider investing in a property here.' 'I knew you craved simplicity but so much so?' 'It is not so much about the simplicity but the community.' Cooper corrected. 'I see.' She nodded. 'So… Am I invited for the housewarming?' 'Vicky, you're invited to my house at any and all times.' This was the moment when they were painfully reminded of the fact that they both still had keys to the other's apartment; but that might be up for a change, in both of their lives, very soon. They simultaneously darted their eyes towards the table. 'As a matter of fact, I have grown to know you as someone who appreciates the simple way of living.' Cooper pointed out. 'And warm weather.' She added. The man knew that well: they were in the middle of dating when she invited him over to her family's vacation house. It was in a rural area of Texas, surrounded by forest and not a single soul besides the neighbours half a mile away. They sometimes got together for a barbecue night, or Vicky begged them to let her ride the horses, but the two of them spent most of their time alone. It was actually one of the afternoons he remembered most clear - they settled down at a field after an especially strenuous hike, lying in the grass as the sun slowly sunk under the horizon. She rested her head on his chest, and they listened to the faint change of sounds as daytime blended into evening; but the weather remained comfortably warm. 'Dale, I gotta admit, I'm pretty tired. Do you mind if we return to the hotel?' 'Not at all.' He replied in a softspoken tone he haven't used in a while. One that implied closeness and caring, that made him lose his composed façade; one he last used in the middle of August, 1987.

He drove themselves back to the wooden hotel – it has been a hot minute since he was on the driver seat of the truck as Victoria was always insistent on driving. She might have driven his own car more than he, himself.

'Vicky…' Coop began before they departed in the hallway. 'I am so sorry about how I talked to you today at the morgue.' 'It's okay, Dale. We have a stressful job and are human.' 'No, it is not okay.' The man insisted. 'You are my co-worker and friend. Your input into the investigation is vital and I should appreciate the work you do. My attitude didn't represent those values I hold dear, nor did I gave you the respect you deserve. I can assure you it won't happen again. Not to mention that you were right.' 'What you say my dear? I'm afraid my hearing is…' She imitated an old woman, cupping her ear with her hand and jokingly leaned closer, but Cooper was already grinning. 'I said, ma'am…' He elevated his voice and leaned towards her ear himself. 'That I'm sorry for your loss of hearing!' They burst into laughter that echoed through the wooden corridor. The pair surely woke a couple residents, but it was the least of their worries. They were friends again.

Right?

#twin peaks #twin peaks fanfiction #agent cooper #dale cooper #chapter 2

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lo-lynx · 5 years

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The reluctant (masculine) hero in GoT and Harry Potter

(Spoiler warning for episode 8x04 of Game of Thrones)

In the latest episode of Game of Thrones Varys and Tyrion talks about who would be the best ruler of The Seven Kingdoms; the queen who has spent years trying to get the throne, or the potential king who doesn’t want it. (NOTE: I AM NOT TAKING A STAND ON WHO WOULD BE THE BETTER RULER) Varys then says: “Have you considered the best ruler might be someone who doesn’t want to rule?” (Game of Thrones 2019: 57:34 min) This plays right into the classic trope of the reluctant hero, the character who doesn’t want to lead but is forced into the situation and turns out to be the hero. Another example of this is Harry Potter, who never wants to be the chosen one, but ends up leading the fight against evil nonetheless. In the seventh Harry Potter book the issue of power and how it can corrupt is very present, and in their final dreamlike discussion Harry and his mentor Dumbledore discusses just that. Dumbledore says:

It is a curious thing, Harry, but perhaps those who are best suited to power are those who have never sought it. Those who, like you, have leadership thrust upon them, and take up the mantle because they must, and find to their own surprise that they wear it well. (Rowling 2007: 575)

I couldn’t help but to think of that quote after watching that latest Game of Thrones episode and ruminating on how alike Jon Snow and Harry Potter’s journey of reluctant leadership are. Jon Snow declines leadership several times in both the books and the show, in this latest episode of the show they emphases several time how he doesn’t want the throne. The books obviously haven’t gotten that far, but there as well this trope is evident when Jon initially doesn’t want to be the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch (Martin 2000/2011: 519). This recurring theme in stories of the hero not wanting to lead is interesting and is most likely there to make us more sympathetic towards them. But as @arhythmetric on twitter wrote (and shout out to her for being the inspiration of this text), not everyone has the opportunity to be a leader in the first place:

I understand the appeal of the “reluctant monarch” but I continue to hate it because it almost always cuts against those to whom power doesn’t just fall into their laps. Look at who gets to be the reluctant monarch every time: straight, able-bodied white men.

The myth of the reluctant leader cuts against women, POC, LGBTQ, disabled people, those who DON’T already have power. And when they try to take some of it, they get painted as power hungry for wanting something denied to them. Because we have to fight for it in a way those who just get it don’t. (arhythmetric 2019)

There are a million ways one could analyse the reluctant hero, why some leaders are seen as legitimate and some not, but one thing that struck me as interesting is the way the importance of them to be masculine.

As many have written before, the traditional hero in Western stories are male, and masculine (Goodwill 2009: 15). But what does masculine mean? RW Connell (2008: 109) writes that there are different types of masculinities in society, that are all a result of the gender relations that exists. She sees gender as a way to organise social praxis, that is, how everyday life is organised based on the reproductive arena (i.e. bodily functions such as attraction and child bearing) (Connell 2008: 138). Moreover, by describing the different kinds of masculinity that exists she makes it clear that there are hierarchical relations between them as well (Connell 2008: 114). She describes different types of masculinity, but here I want to focus on hegemonial masculinity. Hegemonial masculinity is the type of masculinity that is on the top of the gender hierarchy. It is the ideal version of masculinity and the one that best preserves men’s power over women. It’s important to note that this might not be what we often think of as the most masculine, it doesn’t have to be a body builder for instance. In Sweden (where I live) I’d probably describe it as a white middle class man, who works out (but not too much), is a responsible dad, is handy and likes being outdoors, but is also “with the times” and tech-savvy… You get it, the ideal. The point is that hegemonial masculinity is different in different contexts. One important part of it however is that it often excludes certain types of men, for instance LGBTQ men are often seen as “too feminine” (Connell 2008: 116). Another example is that men of colour for instance might represent a marginalised masculinity, something framed as the opposite of the (white) hegemonic masculinity (Connell 2008: 117).

How does this all connect to the reluctant hero? Well, I would consider most heroes to be examples of hegemonic masculinity. In many ways, that is what makes others rally around them as leaders, even if they don’t want to be those leaders. If we use Harry Potter and Jon Snow as examples they very much fit many of the requirements to be ideal masculine heroes. Firstly, they’re both white, straight (as far as we know…), able-bodied and men. Like Varys said in this last Game of Thrones episode “Yes because he’s a man. Cocks are important I’m afraid.” (Game of Thrones 2019: 1:01:08 min) (Note: I obviously don’t think genitals determine one’s gender, but the world does, including in Westeros) But while they’re both fighters they aren’t merciless, both of them try to spare people from death when they can, often to their own detriment. (Martin 2011/2012: 829 & 1064; Rowling 2007: 64) This shows that they aren’t just super-masculine killing machines. The fact that they don’t want to be leaders also show that they are somewhat humble, another good trait. But the fact that they can afford to not be ambitious, and still becomes leaders is in my opinion dependant on the fact that they fit the image of hegemonic masculinity so well.

Wahl, Holgersson, Höök and Linghag (2011) discusses how gender impacts hierarchies in organisations, and what kind of leader someone can be. They write about three aspects that impacts one’s ability to rise in the hierarchy; ability/opportunity, power, and the composition of the group (Wahl et al. 2011: 77). The first aspect is about what kind of ability one perceives themselves to have to advance. Someone with limited resources/opportunities will limit their own ambition, but someone who starts off with many opportunities will have a higher self-esteem and make use of the opportunities they have. When it comes to power, someone with a small amount of power becomes more authoritative and has to use force to get their will through (Wahl et al 2011: 79). But someone with more power can afford to be more relaxed and thus is generally more liked. Finally, the group’s composition matters because if you are in a minority (for instance being a woman in a male-dominated workplace) you become more visible (Wahl et al 2011: 80). This can be negative because you then become a representative of that whole minority and might have to suffer from stereotypes that exists. You might also feel more pressured to perform well, feeling that you are a representative of for instance all women. A final consequence might be that the majority group might feel threatened by you infringing on what has previously solely been their territory.

Does any of this sound familiar? Those last points in particular, in my opinion, very much describe how Daenerys and Jon have been described in this last season of Game of Thrones. Authoritative and disliked, or less bothered by formalities and more liked by the people. Daenerys is a stranger, not only as someone having lived in another country, but also as a woman trying to rule. She becomes hyper visible in this way, and as Varys says, perhaps people would be less forgiving if she was a man. Jon on the other hand doesn’t want to rule, but people keep trying to force it on him. He can keep turning down leadership, but people will still accept him as a leader. If Daenerys didn’t actively try to seek power no one would give it to her. This is in the end why so many reluctant heroes are white straight able-bodied men, they can be reluctant and still be given power. I’m not saying that someone that isn’t a white man is automatically a better ruler. But I am saying that it’s much easier for such a person to gain power. If a woman, POC, LGBTQ+ person, and/or disabled person doesn’t actively seek it no one will give it to us. But a good hero doesn’t seek power.

References:

arhythmetric (2019). I understand the appeal of the "reluctant monarch"(…) [twitter post], 6th of May. https://twitter.com/arhythmetric/status/1125377350596812801 [2019-05-06]

Connell, R.W. (2008) Maskuliniteter. (2nd edition). Göteborg: Bokförlaget Daidalos AB [this is the Swedish translation of Connell’s book Masculinities]

Game of Thrones (2019). The Last of the Starks. [TV-show] HBO, 5th of May.

Goodwill, J-A. S. (2009) THE ACTION HERO REVISIONED: AN ANALYSIS OF FEMALE “MASCULINITY” IN THE NEW FEMALE HERO IN RECENT FILMIC TEXTS. Master dissertation. University of South Africa.

Martin, G.R.R. (2000/2011). A Storm of Swords 2: Blood and Gold. London: HarperVoyager.

Martin, G. R. R. (2011/2012). A Dance with Dragons. London: HarperVoyager.

Rowling, J.K. (2007). Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. London: Bloomsbury Publishing.

Wahl, A., Holgersson, C., Höök, P. & Linghag, S. (2011). Det ordnar sig: teorier om organisation och kön. Lund: Studentlitteratur.

#game of thrones #got #got spoilers #harry potter #feminism

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romancingromanoff · 5 years

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Bring Her Home Part 3/3 *Endgame Spoilers*

The final installment: Bringing Natasha home. This is the eulogy I wish someone could have actually given her. Note that I also don’t fully understand how the time traveling and previous timelines hold up exactly but I believe that all of the separate timelines that have brought the Avengers to where they are in the beginning of Endgame are all conserved and untampered with after Steve returns the rest of the stones. So I’m not sure exactly how it works out, but when he goes to relive his life with Peggy I’m assuming that’s a separate timeline where alternative events are also taking place with the characters a part of that universe. It’s confusing and I apologize, but I hope the ending makes sense to some degree.

Part 1//Part 2

You had insisted in carrying her back in your arms even as you traveled through the quantum realm and were brought back to your own present day in upstate New York. When your feet finally hit solid ground again, you still couldn’t move them at first as you held Natasha tighter to your chest and looked down and studied her face. If you really pretended it was almost like she was simply sleeping and it was just one of those mornings where you had woken up earlier than her and had the chance to just take in how beautiful she was. Even then you never would have tried to wake her up; she rarely got a moment of peace and you didn’t mind watching her sleep. But now she definitely wasn’t waking up and the smile you gave her was bittersweet. As much as you wanted her to wake up this time and to come back to you, you knew that she was entirely at peace now and had the long rest she deserved.

“I can take her,” a voice interrupted your thoughts and you looked up to see Steve with his arms open questioningly. You just nodded and allowed him to gently shift the weight of her body out of your arms and into his as you began to walk with him side by side back to base. Thor, Scott, Bruce, Bucky, Sam and a few more guys you hadn’t been introduced to yet just watched silently and followed a few feet behind you two out of respect.

“The other stones?” you inquired quietly still staring down at the ground.

“I thought I could wait till after the funeral. Her proper funeral,” he said gulping down some feeling of regret that was never truly his to carry. You didn’t blame him for not having the time for a proper funeral when they still needed to snap everyone back. That was exactly what she would have wanted. She wouldn’t have blamed them either; if anything, she would have fussed at them for being distracted while mourning over her and not finishing the job. She always finished the job. Between time traveling and simply how rough the last few hours had been for you in your real time, you couldn’t remember the last time you had eaten and you felt your body slowly giving out on you. You would have almost fallen right then and there if Clint didn’t suddenly appear at your side to steady you. Leaning against him you didn’t have the energy to say thank you and you could barely keep your eyes open at this point. The rest of the walk back was silent from that point on except for the distant sounds of gentle creek water and birds and the second just before you drifted into a deep sleep and Clint scooped you up entirely, in your mind you felt that Natasha was also there walking beside you.

You and Wanda picked out a simple white dress from her closet to dress her in after she was entirely cleaned up and prepared for the burial. None of you being religious, you knew Nat didn’t feel strongly about any certain type of post-mortem practices so you had made the executive decision to bury her at the top of a small hill nearby where the two of you used to watch the sunsets on quieter days. The only thing you insisted upon was having absolutely no red at the funeral. No one could wear red or was ever allowed to place red flowers at her grave.

“Thank you all for coming,” you welcomed the small group softly. It was just the individuals she had worked with closely in the last few years since you knew that she never would have wanted a big funeral. Fury, Maria, what was left of the original 6, Bucky, Sam, Wanda, and Clint’s family all stood around you each holding onto a single white hydrangea. Bringing your hydrangea up to your chin you closed your eyes and tilted your head down so that your nose barely brushed against its petals and you breathed in its soft, fresh scent before looking back up and beginning.

“I’m not here to give the story of Natasha’s past,” you start with a fair warning. “It wouldn’t be my story to give even if I did know all of it. I think we all know bits and pieces; it was hard for her to talk about but you could always see how those memories glazed over her eyes when she’d go deep into thought. And that’s how she saw the world... and herself... through the lens of her past.”

She had been like a stray dog toughened up through all the abuse and mistreatment it had to have survived. But it left her wary of others and uncertain of who to trust.

“Her past is her own,” you stated firmly. “What we remember and what’s most important is the fact that even though the world worked against her and shaped her for destruction, she still spent the rest of her life trying to help it... trying to make it a better place even if she’d never get to see it for herself.”

Laura is sniffling hard and Clint wraps his arm around her, pulling her closer to comfort her but also to steady himself as well while his youngest has wrapped himself around his leg.

“But we all helped to show her the beauty in life. Each and every one of use were her family,” that word pierces your throat and your voice breaks momentarily but you pick yourself back up. “Family... and family is forever. The sacrifice she made was for all of us; to unite this family again along with all the other families that were broken apart. And to me that doesn’t make her sound like someone who let her past consume her. Wherever she is now I hope she’s at peace knowing that the monster she thought she was has long been destroyed. And that she killed it when she taught herself how to love... and how to be loved.”

“Nat,” your eyes sting so hard now that even blinking them doesn’t clear your sight, yet your mind is clear on what you want to say. “You gave me the most beautiful life just by being a part of it. By loving as fiercely as you fought, by caring harder than yourself would allow, and by turning that fire they made to be a weapon into your own light and letting me see it... you saved me... in more ways than one, you saved me time after time and you continue to save me every time I feel like I can’t live without losing you. Because the truth is that you gave me everything. You gave the world everything, and I just hope that you know it was only possible because of how much you meant to me and to us. You always said you were nothing except for the red you had in your ledger, but you washed that all out by yourself a long, long time ago.”

You hold up your hydrangea. “Some people say that hydrangeas symbolize creating your own destiny. Other people say that they represent heartfelt emotion, or a giver’s gratefulness for the recipient’s understanding... You never thought you would have any of those things; you said that you didn’t deserve it. Well, you earned it, Natasha. You earned all of it a thousand times over too.” Dropping the flower in your hand into the grave down below you prompts everyone else to follow your motions. The rest of the funeral is like a whirlwind and everyone around you is moving so fast, next they’re shoveling the dirt back into the grave, then suddenly you’re the last one standing there with Clint and Steve. While the whole world moves you’re perpetually stuck between the all the love you feel radiating from Natasha’s spirit and the words you don’t know to appropriately thank her.

“She knows,” Clint says to you and you look up realizing it’s already gotten dark. Whatever you want to tell her, you know that she knows already. She knows that you won, and that you love her, and that life goes on because the universe is bigger than her. And yet, it wouldn’t be the same without her. It comforts you to think of her knowing all of this wherever she is now because you feel like you’ll owe her for the rest of your life if she didn’t. It makes you think of the first time you saved her.

“I owe you,” she said staring deep into you eyes as gasped from rushing to her aid to stop her from being killed. She had seemed so set in her ways then with her grey moral code that it hurt you just thinking that she didn’t know you would have done that for her no matter what.

“No, you don’t owe me anything, Natasha,” you had spoken her name for the first time which too her by surprise as her wide eyes blinked like a bright light had just suddenly hit her.

You don’t owe her any more words. You don’t have to vocalize anything else or prove something more to her. But you wait a moment more just to whisper “I love you,” to her one last time.

“He wants to talk to you privately,” Sam says and you raise a brow at the sight of him holding onto the shield. He’s unsure of how to carry it at first which is exactly why it suits him. You have no doubt that he’s the right man for it now.

“That yours now?” you ask.

“It would seem so,” you smile and give him a hug before approaching the old man sitting on the bench and staring off in the distance. Steve had always been an old guy but now that his appearance matched his age you feel as if you’re sitting down next to someone who should actually be your grandfather and smile at that thought.

“How long have you been working on this surprise?” you joke.

“Not long,” he admits. “About 70 years.”

“You deserve it,” you say with all the sincerity in your heart and find that his grip still has a lot of strength in it when he squeezes your hand. “And mystery girl? That’s your story to tell or not to tell.”

“There is one thing.”

“Hmm?”

“There is one thing I know you deserve to know about my timeline,” he turns to you with a certain look on his face and a certain name on his lips that you understand without him speaking it.

You take a deep gulp and squeeze his hand back. “Is she happy? I just want to know if in your timeline that she’s happy.”

He nods slowly like he’s considering a lot of different factors, but it just gives you relief knowing that even in some other universe or time you’ll never get to see that she’s found happiness for herself. “She’s definitely happy, Y/N. And I think a lot of that’s because she’s married to you.”

Tears of joy instead of just sadness and hurt leave your eyes for the first time. You’re just glad that she knows... and that your love for each other really is as deep as you felt.

96 notes · View notes

wesker20 · 5 years

Text

Fallen Hero 1.5 Episode 13 Revenge: One Month Later

Episode 12: The Rise of Sidestep Part 2: My Name...

One Month Later…

You got to give credit to Zeta. He’s patient. One month and nothing. Not a zip. Just silence. So much silence that you have returned to your deeds as Mastermind as if everything was normal. Your crew seems more comfortable with you. Or less uncomfortable with you. They seem to have accepted what you did at Bloodmoon or at the very least don’t think about it that much. Surely Jane’s presence has helped with that too. She is the more approachable part of you after all.

Argent has been on your ass lately too. She seems a bit more pissed off compared to your earlier encounters. More determined. But not as much as you expected taking into consideration what happened at Bloodmoon.

Red Doll is another one. She has taken to chasing you like a dog chasing a bone. Only that instead of playing with the bone the dog wants to tear it apart, burn it to ashes, and then throw the ashes on a volcano. And that’s on top of all the other vigilantes who now chase you, not just because they want to get a reputation now, but because they now have a reason to hate your guts. If it was reputation as a bona fide villain that you wanted, you have it.

The underworld, on the other hand, has changed their tune and now you are practically the boogeyman. All of the gangs that took your name suddenly disappeared and new gangs emerged to take their place; gangs composed of former members of the previous gangs.

All in all, you are not sure whether to hug Zeta for his unintentional help with the underworld, or strangle him for making your current life a living hell with all of Los Diablos heroes on your ass.

Rangers HQ – Kitchen

“Everything alright?” Ortega asks, bringing you back into reality. Well, the present reality rather than the past reality.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just, thinking,” you tell her, which is not that much of a lie. These chats have become something of a welcome distraction lately. Whenever you are not planning for your next hit, or waiting for Zeta to make his move, you have come here to either talk or help out however you could. Kept you away from thinking too much about other things. Thinking about other memories…

“What about?”

“Well, a lot. You with all the stuff that’s been happening in the last couple of months.” She stares at you with a soft look, almost as if processing everything that has indeed happened.

She chuckles. “Don’t break your head over it. Trust me.”

“Speaking from experience?” you say with a smirk. She probably is.

“Yeah…” she sighs.

You wonder if you should ask her about it. She was not there but she still saw the end result. And Argent was there too. You know you would not want anyone to witness that, let alone one of your friends. “Want to talk about it?” you finally say dropping your casual tone.

“There’s not much to talk about. I wasn’t there. Angie was, and… well… she’s not exactly sharing it.” In her shoes you wouldn’t. You can barely think about it without shivering. Or at least you used to. Now you feel… nothing. Almost as if those emotions have been hidden away or gotten erased. You wonder if it has to do with the fact you were the one responsible for Bloodmoon.

“Never took Argent for a sharer.”

“She really isn’t,” she begins and pauses, looking at you with a quizzical look on her face. “A lot like you actually.”

You chuckle a bit. “Really? How?”

“You are both always so reserved and closed. Like try to live a little but no, you prefer that tiny little world of yours. Powers away, you two are lot alike.” She takes a sip of her drink.

“If I didn’t knew you any better, I’d say you were trying to set us up,” you joke, taking a sip of your drink, hiding your chuckle.

She spits drink, laughing. “Oh god, no,” she begins taking a napkin to clean herself up. “That would be so hard, just to get you two to…” she stops herself, tapping her chin as if deep in thought. “Although…”

“No!” you cut her off a little too quickly.

She simply smiles. “oh come on.”

“No. I’m an asshole and I can barely deal with myself. Let alone two assholes. Besides last I checked I wasn’t even worth a glance.”

“Angie is not…” she taps her chin. “Ok yeah, she can be. But trust me, once you get on her good side, she’s actually very sweet. Again, kind of like-”

“Don’t say it,” you cut her off, eating the last piece of your chocolate bar and throwing the paper at the trashcan. “I’m not interested.”

“Sure you are. Who are you lying to,” a third voice chimes in. The last voice you wanted to hear today. Jane’s voice. Or rather, the Jane from your head. “Be honest. You want to get on with that silver lady, rip her clothes off and see that sexy body. You want to feel that skin on yours like a-” ‘stop it’ you tell her mentally. At least one thing you have learned in the last month about her.

“Besides, since when do you play matchmaker?”

“Since I’ve had to deal with you two idiots,” she chuckles. You put your hand on your chest, faking offense.

“Julia Ortega, you wound me.” She laughs and takes another sip.

“I’m honest. You need some social life, she needs a social life. You were practically made for each other.”

“I fail to see how that would even work. Besides she’s not my type.” At that Ortega completely spills over her drink.

“You want me remind you of Luna?” Oh god no. Not that. Luna is an assassin you fought back in your Sidestep days. She was hired to kill some business men, and you, like the naïve idiot that you were, jumped in to protect them. Sufficient to say you two did have something of a chemistry. Nothing came of it, of course, but Ortega always teased you about it, even threatened to take a picture and post it on the fridge once. As for her mission, Luna was not known to fail, and fail she did not. One of your several loses you could say. You shake your head in shame as Ortega laughs again.

Silence overtakes for several minutes before a wonder comes to mind. “By the way, where’s Herald?”

“Where else, in a press conference with the Mayor regarding the last couple of months.”

“Poor kid. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”

“Still remember the days when I was the one there?.” You simply nod. Ortega was always called to represent the Rangers and you were always dragged into it; unless you wanted to stay alone with Steel. You made sure to keep yourself hidden so that they wouldn’t find you, but that did not protect you from the reporters, politicians, and others. You feel pity for Herald, even if he looks good on camera and can probably take it, playing second fiddle to the Mayor is never pretty.

“Remember how we always had to sneak away ‘cause your fans would surround us?” you tell her.

She laughs. “Yeah. My favorite one was when we had to use the bike to get away.” You groan at the memory. Ortega was the driver and you were the unfortunate passenger. You never let Ortega drive you in a bike ever again after that.

“You mean the time you nearly killed us?” you chuckle.

“Oh come on, it wasn’t that bad.” You simply stare at her, wishing that you could get in her head to pass on the memory of the day. But it seems the look on your face says it all. “Alright, maybe it was that bad. But admit it, you had fun.”

“Definitely more fun than your disappointed fans.”

“Yeah. Surprised I still have some.”

“You do?”

She nods. “Yeah. Hell, couple of days ago this journalist came and told me he was a fan.”

“huh, Journalist?”

“Yeah, an independent one. He has some magazine apparently.” You sigh while smiling.

“Guess you still have it even in your old age,” you tease. You immediately raise your hands in surrender as she stares at you. “Don’t shoot me,” you say and the two of you just laugh it off. “What’s the name of the magazine anyway? Maybe I’ll check it out.”

“It was…” she taps her chin trying to remember. “…ta. Something with ta. Ta, ta, ta. Zeta magazine.” You feel your heart stop beating, your body freezes over, and the smile you had been sporting up until now fades into a straight line. You manage to hide it all from Ortega and continue.

“What did he looked like?” Please don’t say smaller than me with brown hair. Please don’t say smaller me with brown hair.

“He was small. Smaller than you actually. And brown hair. Dressed with a white long sleeves shirt.” Your stomach twists and turns. Her voice fades away, everything fades away as you lock yourself in your mind. He was here, Zeta was here. And he spoke to Ortega. Why?

“-member the name, sorry.” Ortega’s voice brings you back to reality. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just remembered something.”

“Anything important?” you shake your head.

“I’ll be going now. Tomorrow’s gonna be a busy day.” It really will be now.

“Sure. I’ll take you to the entrance.” You feel the instant need to tell her you know the way. But that would just raise some eyebrows and reveal how nervous you are, so you let her.

The walk to the entrance is painful, you count every second that passes, every breath you take, and the people in your way just irritate you beyond believe.

“Well good news is your plan worked,” you hear Jane’s voice right next to you, keeping up with you as a third invisible member to your walk. “Bad news is you should have expected it to be something like this.” You don’t even bother to answer her. You know. You should have predicted this. But you didn’t. You expected him to maybe attack someplace else, maybe give you a call threatening you. You never expected him to actually go after the Rangers. It’s suicide if he wishes to remain unnoticed.

You arrive at the entrance and give your goodbyes to Julia. You wait for her to get as far away as possible before you begin your desperate sprint out. You don’t bother to excuse yourself as you bump into everyone outside, they do not matter at the moment. You have to get back to your hideout and plan out your next move. You’ve had one month to think it up, but you could barely come up with something without knowing what Zeta would try next. Now that you have an idea, you can get something.

He came to Ranger and talked to Julia, specifically her. No doubt because he knows what you two had. So what was his purpose? Information gathering? Makes sense with his cover as an independent journalist. But then why did he name his magazine after himself? That’s just stupid, straight up sloppy. You don’t use something that obvious unless… unless you are not trying to hide. Unless you expect the person to relay the name to an intended target.

Your phone rings. Damn it, who could be now. You grab the phone and look at the number. Unknown…

You push ‘send’ and slowly raise it to your ear. “What!?” you say, your voice bitter.

“I like your friend Ortega. She reminds me a lot of Alpha. I see why you fell for her.” your heart stops again as you try to hold back whatever this is that’s rising through your body. “I can see why you replaced Alpha with her.”

“I did not replace anyone.”

“Yes you did. The rangers, that crew of worthless criminals? They are all replacements for us. Your team. The team you destroyed.”

“I-” you begin but the words stay on your throat.

“If you haven’t been wishing for all of those things you wouldn’t have had to replace us at all because nothing would have happened. We would have all stayed together and alive.”

“I told you to come with me. You refused.”

“Because I told you that there was nothing for us out here. And even if there was, there was no escaping the farm. I mean look at you. You escaped and got captured anyway.” You gulp. The memories of those days coming back to you, but you bury them down. “and now you are a villain, hurting people like that Red Doll girl. You remember her boyfriend, right? How you crushed his skull with your bare hands?”

“What do you want Zeta? If you want me dead I’m right here.” You hear him laughing at the other end.

“You don’t deserve death. Death is a rest. It’s a better alternative than what happened to Alpha. You don’t deserve that rest. No. I want your whole world to collapse on you and for you to sit on that empty world with nothing at the end. Starting now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want to play a game, Jeremy.” He says your name with mockery, as if it a filthy thing to say. Your name. Her name. Her gift. “I call it, how fast can you save your friends without them noticing. I mean you could tell them. But then you would have to explain to them who I am and why I’m after you. And how I was sneaky enough to set up a bomb inside their headquarters.” You feel yourself choking.

“What!”

“I put a bomb. Don’t disarm it, and it goes boom, adios half of Rangers HQ and about 10 miles worth of streets and people. Disarm it, and you still have to get it out without anybody noticing. Again, unless you are willing to explain it all to them, it makes no difference to me. And because I’m feeling generous today I’ll give you a general area to search. The bomb is in the visitors’ area. Yeah, I know. Not the most structurally important site, and trust me if it was up to me I would have set it deeper but, you know, security in there is more than even I can handle. And besides what fun is a game if I put it in an impossible area for you to reach. Good luck. You have about thirty minutes before everything goes kabloom.” Before you can answer the line goes dead.

Thirty minutes. Julia is probably still in the visitors area, and even if she wasn’t, she is still probably close to it. Ten miles radius. You have a slight idea what bomb he is talking about. Another bomb they taught you to build at the farm, meaning that you could disarm it.

“Wo, wo, wo. Hold on a second there,” the Jane presence shows herself again. “You are not going to play his game are you?”

“Does it look like I have a choice?”

“Yeah, you do. Turn around and walk away. It’s not your problem their security sucks.”

You stare at her in disbelieve. And then turn back to the building and prepare to walk in, ignoring Jane’s outburst about how you are going to get yourself, and in turn her, killed. And she just might be right.

Shit.

You barge through the front door, once again not excusing yourself from bumping into everyone. Whatever you do, you can’t let Julia, Argent, or Steel see you. Thankfully, or not depending on your point of view, the building is crowded today. Probably has something to do with that press conference. You head straight for the visitors area, not a second to waste.

Now at the visitors’ area what’s left is to figure out where the bomb is. You can’t blindly search for it; it would be a waste of time to do so, especially with the building so crowded. Think, think, think. Where would Zeta put it, where would you put it?

You replay the conversation in your head, trying to find a clue. A hint. A slip, anything. You check your clock, eight minutes have passed since the call. You may only have twenty two minutes, maybe less if you account for the lost time in the conversation. It has to be something small so that Zeta could have snuck it in. But even small there is the risk of someone finding it, so he would need to put it in a place where no one but you would find it.

Shit. You have nothing. Every area you have visited has spots where it could be found. Maybe up. No, you look up but the ceiling is one piece. No way to tear one part off and plant a bomb. The builders here took precautions. Then Jane screams to you.

“Idiot, can’t you feel that!?” indeed you do. A certain mind that you would recognize anywhere: Argent.

You immediately hide behind a crowd. You hope her vision does not notice you, or if it does, it confuses you with the others. You are not certain it will work but you have to try. If she finds you, even if she ignores you, she would probably tell Julia and she thinks you are already out. You see Argent pass through the crowd, ignoring several of them, and thankfully steps into an elevator. You breathe a sigh of relief. But not for long, bomb, still counting. You check your clock: you have lost four more minutes. eighteen minutes or less. Shit.

You force yourself through the crowd, heart pumping, sweat sliding down your forehead. Where, where, where, where, where, where, where, where, where, where, where, WHERE, WHERE, WHERE, WHERE, WHERE, WHERE, WHERE, WHERE, WHERE… you can’t think, you can’t, not with all these thoughts overwhelming you, all of these people. You had forgotten how much you hated crowds for this exact reason. Their worthless worries creeping into your head like worms, overtaking you, blind to the danger that they are in. They scream and yell, moan and whine about how unfair everything is when they have a FUCKING BOMB THAT WILL KILL THEM ALL. SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!

“You shut up you idiot,” Jane’s voice echoes in your head. You feel her hand on your shoulder and turn to see her. “If you use your powers here you will be found. Keep it quiet. Breath.” You obey her. “Breath. Now calm down and think. I’ll block them out.” You don’t bother questioning her. So far she has only been able to manifest, but not use your powers. How will she block them? You don’t understand but it works, their thoughts vanish from your mind. Even your more negatives thoughts disappear, as if hidden away, only reason, pure cold logic and reason. You realize the answer was in front of you all along.

The kitchen, the place you have visited the most, where you always end up in, where you have spent all your talks with Julia, and even Herald. However it has many spots where it could be found, Zeta had to hide it in one place no one would check. Under the sink? No, if something broke, they would call someone to fix it and they would check it. Under the table even less, anyone can check that. Inside the fridge? Argent would have found it by now, and something tells you Zeta would have noticed too. Behind the fridge? Like the sink if the fridge broke, they would move it and find it. But it does have more possibility.

You arrive at the kitchen with eight minutes to spare. Thankfully no one was here. Before checking behind the fridge you check on your eliminated possibilities just to be certain. As you expected neither under the table nor the kitchen sink. You check behind and you hear it, a slow beeping. Low enough to be covered by the fridge’s motor but clear enough if you are looking for it.

You check outside, making sure no one is coming. You check for cameras. There are cameras but you notice they are off. All but one. Shit. Zeta is watching you. You make sure to flip him off just to release some of the fury you are feeling right now. You begin moving the damn thing as much as possible. Damn, it’s heavy. Even as empty of snacks as it is right now, it’s probably the heaviest thing you have had to move out of your suit in a while. Oh how you miss your suit right now. You could have moved out this thing like a toy. But alas, you can’t. So you hold onto it, bite the scream of your muscles away and pull the fridge away from the wall. Not by much, but enough that you can squeeze through and with an outstretched arm you grab it.

You can’t describe what you are feeling right now, your heart begins beating again, air flows through your lungs again. Finally you can disarm this thing and get it over wi-

“Oh shit,” both you and the Jane presence say at the same time as you stare at the bomb. Same type of bomb you were taught to make. You could disarm it with your eyes folded. Or in your sleep. That’s not the problem. The problem with this one versus the one he set in your hide out is simple: the substance. The nitro. The formula is highly explosive. After a certain amount of sudden movements it can explode: with or without detonator. So not only do you have to disarm this thing, you have to carry out the bottle with the substance, making sure not to make too many sudden movements, in a place filled to the brim with people, and then find a way to get rid of it. You take a deep breath. You need it.

As you expected your work is done almost as fast as you begin, little more than thirty seconds to disarm the detonator. Now all you have to do get this highly explosive agent out of the building. Easy…

You put the detonator on one of your pockets. You grab the agent and put your hand inside one of your pockets. You take another breath. At least you no longer have a ticking clock.

You step slowly out of the kitchen, making sure there is no Ranger in the distance. You turn on your ‘don’t look at me’ aura and another ‘get out of my way aura’ to ensure your survival and theirs. Not that is easy. The place is still filled to the brim and people are not fast enough to get out of your way. So you are forced to take each and every step with careful consideration, keeping an eye out for any stray thoughts that may come from any of the rangers. Well except Julia. You can’t feel her…

Shit! You forgot about that!

You breathe again, calming down. You’ll come up with something to say if you find her, you are capable of that much at least.

You continue your way, going through the crowd and into the elevator, which fills just as much. You glue yourself to the corner, making sure no one can bump into you. You step out of the Elevator without missing a beat. That’s it, you are close to the lobby. Just several meters more and then…

You bump into someone. Your heart stops, your breath gets stuck in your throat, and your body freezes… “Watch where you are going!” the man yells at you before moving on. You don’t quite process his words. Your mind still realizing you are alive and unharmed. For now.

“OK, we are fine and dandy. Now move it!” Jane says. You don’t have to be told twice. You head for the entrance and finally walk out and down the steps. Yes! You did it! You are out. Now to get rid of it. You can go to one of the docks and throw it away. Or maybe keep it and use it in the future. It’s not every day you get this kind of explosive. Either way, you are out and now all that’s left is to…

You feel the shockwave before hearing the boom. A thundering boom that breaks through your ears. An explosion, far from here. The shockwave takes you down into the pavement. The nitro falls out of your hands. You watch as it bounces once. You don’t wait to see it bounce away you stand up and run back to Rangers HQ, far away, before…

You don’t hear this explosion. Instead you feel it. You turn just in time for the shockwave to hit you in the stomach, sending you through the entrance and into the lobby. You cover your face by instinct, as glass digs into your back and arms. You roll on the ground and hit something. You don’t know what but it stops you from rolling. Somehow you don’t lose consciousness. Not that it matters.

Your body screams in agony, your vision blurs, and the last thing you want is to get up. But you do. Using your training you push through the pain, ignoring it, switching it off for now. You don’t need it. Right now what you need is to get your head back in the game. Your vision clears and you see the mess. Debris and glass everywhere. People bloodied, some of them on the ground, whether dead or unconscious, you can’t tell.

“Medics, get here and help these people,” you hear the familiar voice of Steel. You turn to see him helping some people while ordering security. Well no need to hide this time at least. You stumble down but you feel a hand grab you before you fall, a silver hand. Argent.

You turn to see her staring down on you and helping you to sit. “Hey there. How’s your day?” you joke because that’s the only thing that will keep you sane right now.

“I don’t know. You tell me. You look worse than Ortega on a bad day.”

“Ah, finally decided to talk to me? Nice. All it took was an explosion.”

“Keep talking and I’ll drop you on your head.”

“Duly noted.”

“Stay here. I’m sure Julia is on the way.” She doesn’t stop to see your nod, heading towards Steel who relays some orders to her.

“Jeremy!” And there’s Julia. “What are you doing here?”

“Had to go to the bathroom so I came back and… well you take a look.” It was as good an excuse as you could muster at the moment.

“What happened?” she asks, taking a more professional tone, but still clearly worried.

“I heard one explosion. Far off. I don’t know where. Next thing I know I was flying through the door.”

“There were two?” she asks. You nod. She turns and calls for Steel. He looks at you with that same unreadable face that he always has.

“What is it?” he asks.

“There were two explosions. One was far off.” She tells him. Steel remains thoughtful for a second before turning to you.

“Do you remember the direction of the explosion?” you shake your head. You barely even had time to process there was one. “Try to think. From which side did you heard it?” you do as he says because, as hurt as you are, you are just as curious to know where that other explosion came from. And you get the sense Steel is on to something. You think back to your position, you were looking towards the street, back to the entrance. You heard the boom from your left ear. But you just told Julia you were heading in, so you can’t tell Steel you were heading out.

“I was heading into the building again,” you begin, he listens without an expression. “Right side. I heard the first explosion on my right.” Both Steel’s and Julia’s eyes widen and they look at each other. “What?” you ask, although you might have figured out the answer. Julia turns to you.

“That direction?” she points sheepishly. You nod. “That’s the direction of the-.”

“The press conference,” you cut her off.

Shit…

Episode 14 Revenge: The Voice

#fallen hero rebirth #fallen hero: retribution #fanfic #fanfiction #Ortega #Julia Ortega #Lady Argent #Steel #Rangers HQ #OC #The final story arc

14 notes · View notes

quietlysatan · 5 years

Text

Can Your Friends Do This? - Watermelonsmellinfellon, AO3 (Though OP said they cross posted on FF.net too)

Link: Here!!

Rating: Mature

Favorite Quote(s): Because I love The Avatar show

"First, there are more than one dimension and more than one universe. Foolish mortals are the only ones to assume they are the only forms of intelligent life in their respective universes. This Earth we are on resides in a different universe altogether and consists of nations of people who possess an affinity with the elements. Some are born as mixes of two and use chakra to create new elemental affinities or abilities. This planet Earth parallels another planet Earth in another dimension of this universe, where there are only four large nations and each represents either fire, water, earth, or air, and with beings able to bend their own element to their advantage."

And these ones because these four are important.

1. "A lot of suicidal people didn't really want to die, they simply wanted the pain to cease so that living once again seemed worthwhile."

2. Hari was very firm on her decision. She'd always been the one rescuing people and never once realized that maybe she should have been rescued.

3. “Despite his wish to be Hokage and to be a hero, I realized that someone needed to rescue him first for that to happen. And so I took the job."

4. "I've lost many people, and while it doesn't coincide with what others will tell you in life, it actually does get better. There aren't enough hours in the day to keep thinking about what you've lost. There are jobs to do, and people to watch over, and even your own health to consider. You won't have the time to recount every mistake you've ever made. And the pain from their distance will eventually dim and become tolerable. The only way it wouldn't get better is if you keep thinking about it all the time. People who are always depressed over the loss of loved ones are usually the very same people who think about them all the time, which ends up keeping them in their depressed states, to begin with. And then there is no progression."

A Fucking mood from Hari/Harry Potta/Potter

“I don't like exercising. I'm not meant for it."

Because Sasuke is an adorable little shit, which is, as always when it comes to him, The Best

Naruto was teaching someone Taijutsu? It was laughable at best, though he didn't actually laugh. That would ruin his image as the strong and silent loner. He couldn't afford for people to think he was nice or anything.

Because this is something important and personal to ME specifically

"This is all sweets. But they are sugar-free sweets. There are foods you can eat that will give you the energy you need without having a negative effect on your body. Bananas are a good snack. Watermelon, lettuce, leafy green veggies, they all have a lot of water in them. They fill you up quickly, can keep you hydrated, and because most are made of water, you aren't consuming fats and oils. Though do not replace every meal with these things unless you take vitamins and supplements on a daily basis. While there is nothing wrong with being vegan, a lot of vegans forget to take their supplements and vitamins. They especially need those because they keep so many important foods from their eating schedule."

Another Mood

To make it worse… she'd gotten her monthly visit from TOM. She named it TOM in memory of a certain arse who caused her a lot of pain and grief. Her Time of the Month, TOM, liked to mock her for at least five days out of every month and this month was terrible.

And last, but not least, the best thing I have read since I woke up

Potta Hari's cousin was not romantically involved with anyone, or so his sources said. Perhaps marrying someone to her would offer a better chance for an alliance between their clans?

A knock startled him from his thoughts, and he had to compose himself quickly. "Yes?"

"A letter has arrived for you, Hiashi-sama," Kosuke said from the other side of the door.

"Come."

The letter was handed over within seconds, and Kosuke was gone immediately.

When he finally got to the message however, he had to smirk in amusement. He should have known that making plans about a Seer wouldn't go as expected.

Dear Hyuga-sama,

No.

Respectfully, Potta Runa.

And this

Was Danzo literally the only bad person in this world who was bad naturally and not because he had some unfortunate upbringing, was bullied or was manipulated into being bad?

Basically tbh

Words & Chapter(s): 287,295 words and 20 chapters, unfinished, but worth it

Summary: Tsume Yuki's, 'Ain't Never Had a Friend Like Me' prompt.

Master of Death Hari is sealed inside a genie bottle and tossed into the Veil. Only the interference of Death stops her from being enslaved. When Naruto comes into possession of the bottle and frees Hari from her prison, she gets attached and decides to help him, changing everything we know.

Score: 13, this is very amusing, and has no qualms with having humor AND seriousness whenever. Not to mention, I could honestly go back to the very beginning and read it all over again and I’d still love every moment of it in all honesty.

Pairing(s): Hatake Kakashi/Female!Harry Potter, as well as Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, background Anko Mitarashi/Luna Lovegood

Warning(s): For all that this looks like a lot of warnings it’s just because this fic is well over 200K words, and it’s not nearly as bad as all these warnings look. There’s no major character death (Technically. A few from the HP universe passed before our MC even came into our universe. Still, only casual mentions so far)

Always a girlHarry still had to deal with all the abuse of her counterpart. The ministry betrayed her (Shocking. I know.) mentions of (CANON) past childhood abuse described three-quarters of the way through chapter three, then again in chapter four, no worries though it’s not graphic or gratuitous.

Mentions of death, and the things and ways that death may affect someone (This is a naruto universe crossover fic soooo, I don’t know what you were expecting honestly. At least it’s not as subtly/suddenly angsty as FMA fics get.), attempted murder that fails because Hari is the Mistress of Death (... Is Master not gender neutral??? I thought it was... Still, Mistress sounds cooler and more dangerous)

Mentions of porn, off-screen lemon, etc.

There IS a bit of fat-shaming from certain characters, but they eventually learn better, there are also mentions of children, and others, on diets, and also that have unhealthy eating habits and why they’re not good regardless, as well as the effects of being on a diet while also doing various exercises and rigorous training regimens, but not to worry, it slowly but surely improves.

Manipulation and grey morals, (Again shocking, I know.) which is great because my morals would go very dark very quickly if I were Hari (Because this is a crossover, and she is in Japan/The Elemental) and I’d for some dumbass reason decided to return to my original world (THAT DOESN’T HAPPEN THIS A HYPOTHETICAL WHAT-IF), but Hari doesn’t which is always amazing

World/Dimension displacement. Figured I’d add that just in case, personally I love those types of stories but you never know.

Kidnapping followed by attempted murder fails spectacularly. It is quite amusing to see for my inner sadist.

One of Hari’s family members passed away due to cancer, but it’s a small mention and there’s minimal angst because it happened years ago. The others seemed to have died in a war with the goblins which is only occasionally mentioned here and there.

Someone tries to enslave Hari as a genie. It does not work. Death seemed upset that someone thought that would work at all in the “Like, honestly, who the fuck do you even think you are???” kind of pissed

Danzo and ROOT exist. Sadly.

Also “ the lives of the many are more important than the lives of the few “ is something that seems to be a basic background of the morals of this fic. I know some find this detestable, but I would like to point out that, it’s true. It’s really fucked up, but unless that One has some very important and necessary ability, they are less important than the five-hundred and forty-two. Shitty as it seems.

There’s technically a war. If you could call the opposing sides... attempts a war. No major casualties or uber gruesome happenings though.

There are some injuries, of course, their big but not graphically described as far as I’ve seen up to the current chapter limit.

Pros: GREAT FUCKING WRITING!!! Great research and really immersive too!!!

Hari and Naruto because each others precious people, and Harry protects Naruto as best she, a civilian and witch, can.

The Japanese That Doesn’t Need To Be Written Because You’re Writing This In English And It Doesn’t Make Sense And Is Awkward isn’t present which is always a plus.

It’s really unique and different from what is normally written in these situations (Not that there’s anything wrong with what we normally get!!!) from how a female main character reacts (Very Harry Potter-ish) and whatnot to her romance with other characters to her friendship with them, and also I love the way her relationships are with everyone! It’s just, so, refreshing for a female MC to be written like this, like getting that first bite of watermelon in the middle of summer, and jumping in the pool, or a drink of hot chocolate in the middle of a snowy night.

Not to mention! The way Hari interacts with the world around her and manages to change everything even though she wasn’t trying, and the way she still isn’t overpowered regardless for all that she can use her magic at will. UGH!!! IT’S JUST SO GOOD

Aesthetic: It’s like drinking fresh lemonade after a hard days work, like swimming in your best friends pool after you finish your homework, it’s like a warm cup of tea after a stressful day, and cuddling up to a friend or lover, like dancing to your favorite song while you’re all alone in your kitchen. It is like being alone, but not lonely, ad being with a few good friends but not ignored. It is freeing and refreshing and relaxing and exciting and new and old and so much more. It feels happy, for lack of a better word. Very, subtly, happy.

Gif Aesthetic: Oh my god yes, this is Hari

and this is what the romance in this fic reminds me of

and this somehow reminds me of several characters at once

And this one too sometimes, which is nice

and this (Except Boruto doesn’t exist obviously, I think this fic was actually started before Boruto even came into the picture actually) is what the fighting looks like

except for when it looks like this

Hari and Luna fucking everything up while everyone else watches and decides it is safest to just, not interfere with the crazy witches.

Hari, Death, and Luna/Runa planning who to fuck up protect next

Every single Rookie Nine without fail

(Scroll back up and look at how cute the slimy kitty yawns!!! She’s so cute!!!)

#SasuNaru #Sasuke x Naruto #Naruto x Sasuke #Harry Potter #Female Harry Potter #Harry x Kakashi #Satan has great taste in: SasuNaru #Satan has great taste in: Harry Potter #fluff humor and angst fic #bisexual Harry Potter #Harry is an adult btw don't worry #and NaruSasu is young but cute as shit #they're so oblivious #it's fucking adorable

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geejaysmith · 5 years

Text

Wolf 359: A running list of things I have a heightened appreciation on second listen, pt. 2

Part one here.

SEASON 3:

Pan-Pan: Still a little miffed they didn't explicitly do the "we have to huddle to conserve body heat" trope. Yes, it's corny, but also shut up, let my touch-starved space disasters cuddle.

So Eiffel stopped Hera and Minkowski arguing in season 1 to address an emergency, and now with Eiffel absent, the team starts arguing again. The fact he doesn't exactly have much Pride In His Own Self-Sufficiency to get in the way of "hey! Guys! Remember, imminent death? More important priorities happening?" tends to defuse situations like this aaaaaand now he's absent.

"Cutter will send a squad of psychos to come up here and kill us faster!" ...she's not wrong.

"Pick a corner and relax! Hop to it!" I just like this line delivery.

"The entire station is a SPACE YUKON and this thing is overheating!" I know, it's like it's symbolic or something.

Episode 29: "we all feel responsible for losing Eiffel and are lashing out because we're scared and sad and grieving and fear getting backlash while we're vulnerable if we admit we need help, and we don't know what to do but keep going because the alternative is breaking down and possibly never getting back up again." Alternatively: "It's Metaphors All the Way Down."

Mayday: Eiffel's frustrated screaming.

Brain Ghost Minkowski showing up like "Yeah, we know I'm a hallucination, or Weird Alien Shit, or maybe just a clever metaphor representing the abstract process of thought, but who gives a crap, this is more interesting than listening to you talk to yourself for an entire episode."

BGM: Hi, I'm your thought processes externalized using a face and personality that you subconsciously think you need to hear from in this situation, possibly because you think so little of yourself you need to hear it from somebody else first. Eiffel: Oh hey cool, this is just like this one web comic I kept up with sometimes back on Earth- BGM: Not another word.

Eiffel getting slapped by Brain Ghost Lovelace, who is a projection of his thoughts.

What is that whispering in his head that reminds him of the Hermes' name supposed to be anyway? Score one for my Weird Alien Brain Shit theory. Having Lovelace's alien juice in your system comes with such fun side effects.

"I dunno, I only know what you know." "Shut up, don't go meta on me." / "Hilbert wouldn't know that word! He's never even heard of Empire!" Yeah, toldja: it's Brain Ghosts.

Brain Ghost Hilbert may represent the realist in Eiffel and the brutal, calculating reality he doesn't want to confront, but Brain Ghosts Minkowski and Lovelace are his cooler head and ingenuity, working him through staying calm and devising a way to survive, and Brain Ghost Hera, who appears when Hilbert tells him it's hopeless, telling him that against all the odds he will be okay, is his stubborn determination to never, ever quit. They're all his determination to live when Doug might want to just stop trying. They're the better parts of himself, reflected in the voices of his friends.

And Hilbert. But I digress- HOLY FUCK, I just realized the brilliance in the one-two punch of the Brain Ghost Brigade contrasted with the previous episode's Stress Fracture Argue Crew, it's The Sound And The Fury all over again.

Paging the Wolf 359 incorrect quote blogs: "Save my friends! And Zoidberg Hilbert!"

Sécurité thru Don’t Poke the Bear: Maxwell! I've missed you! (':

"And I build pretty awesome battle drones on the weekends." ...Does Maxwell have her own souped-up version of one Jamie Hyneman's Blendo?

Eiffel, realizing he's starting to sound like Minkowski: My god, what have I become.

Eiffel mumbling to himself in general. "This is hell and I'm in it."

Is it just me or is Kepler's pig story not as agonizingly drawn out to listen to the second time around?

A Matter of Perspective: Funzo: 12 different board games, three of them TCGs and maybe at least one TTRPG, all tossed in a blender, because Pryce and Cutter are psychopaths.

The Funzo manual is the size of the actual Bible and don't try to convince me otherwise.

How into the game the girls all get.

Headcanon: Minkowski and Lovelace are both the types to get stupidly competitive over any kind of game regardless of their initial level of investment.

Eiffel keeps a photo of (it's implied) him and his daughter taped to the underside of his console...

"He looks so... happy." shUT UP

"I had no idea Eiffel had a-" daughter. Was it "daughter" you were going to say Minkowski. Well, no one else knew you were married til you brought it up, so turnabout's fair play.

"You think you know me? You know the artist formerly known as Warren Kepler, you've met my job. Aside from that, there's no one left for you to know." In light of the series finale, I, uh... I don't if I like this, Scoob. Also, stop reminding me all these people are human persons underneath all the desensitization to horror and violence.

"Happy birthday, Eiffel." They remembered! Hope this one is less traumatizing than the last, Doug.

"Happy Kwanzaa!" "Lovelace."

"Long Story Short, that's the last time I saw Maxwell's feet" wh. What. What happened involving Maxwell's feet. What's. why-

And to make a long story short, that's where my "Maxwell has hands for feet" headcanon came from.

Need to Know: Minkowski's dreams, apparently, include both creating musicals and commanding a deep space mission. She's gotten the latter way the hell off the bucket list, somebody with actual songwriting skills want to get in and write the former with me?

Lovelace overindulging on painkillers for her broken arm after losing Officer Fisher... "It was a difficult time." ):

Aaaand serious implications of the above are immediately headed off by Lovelace quacking aggressively at Jacobi.

Fire and Brimstone: where is my fanfiction about Lovelace overseeing Minkowski during her solitary confinement?

The Backstory Episodes: Zach Valenti wrote all the backstory episodes! I just find that kind of sweet.

Once in a Lifetime: Small detail I only noticed on my second listen, after a fanfic put the thought in my head: Minkowski's parents are only referred to in the past tense. Oof.

"Thank you for coming in on such short notice. We had a hiccup in staffing for this upcoming quarter." So... according to the wiki's timeline, the launch for the second Hephaestus mission was some time in late March 2013. The beginning of this episode (and Eiffel's) states it takes place in 2013, with 3 months of training, meaning they were probably brought on board in January and the whole thing moved *ridiculously* fast. Everything points to them wanting to get people up in space as quickly and with as little fuss as possible, giving the newcomers no time to think it over or do additional research. Once they start the training program, they're probably too busy to look further into Goddard's deep space missions, and are likely in an environment where Goddard Futuristics can cut them off from other information sources. The people they select are relatively isolated (Minkowski and her husband being an exception) - the easier to make them disappear. Even Lovelace has been stationed at "a lot of very isolated, very quiet outposts", the implication being her superiors wanted her somewhere out of the way. Kind of makes me wonder about the rest of the Hephaestus 1.0 crew...

Greensboro: Nice ominous foreshadowing you've got there vis a vis Captain Lovelace and "are you an alien?"

Decommissioned: "We're not about to force anyone to do something they don't want to do!" ...Marcus Cutter deserves to have his trousers ablaze constantly.

All Things Considered is still a bit confusing (because I somehow keep listening to it while doing something else) and I'll need another listen to figure out what probably actually happened, but it is also hilarious.

"Eiffel had engaged the machine, but that's why I build in extra safeguards. My mistake, clearly, was to assume that would be enough to stop the slapstick routine."

“All Things Considered”: Did you have fun with this over-the-top romp of hilarity and and hijinks, dear audience? Good! Because that was us burning off our comedy quota for the rest of the season. Get ready for six whole episodes of nonstop emotional gut-punches!

MEMORIA.

Just... Memoria.

Putting this quote here because of Reasons: "Three years... Three and a half years... I've had this thing in my head breaking me, and making me think it was all my fault, that there was something wrong with *me!*"

So Memoria is still one of the best episodes and the last five minutes fuck me up in a special little way.

Time to Kill: "Or the one outside is the real Jacobi... and the alien is already in here with us." The funny thing, Maxwell, is that you were half-right and didn't even realize it, and you *were* just speaking to Lovelace.

So... do alien duplicates only get reloaded from the singular "snapshot" of the person, or does getting flare-scanned once give them a continually updated source of info? What I'm getting at is: if another Jacobi shows up post-finale, would he need to be filled in on events between his horrible, terrible death and the present?

Persuasion: Maxwell switching to First Name Basis to get Jacobi to be honest with her.

I always forget until the scene after that Hilbert is totally setting up the Space Telephone to manipulate her, but of all the ways he could've gotten Minkowski around to "we are disposable and need to act *now* before these people decide they're done with us", it still kinda touching that this is the method he chose.

Desperate Times/Desperate Measures are just a blur of "oh god oh god oh god" and it's just as nailbiting the second time around. One thing I love about this podcast is how comfortable it is with (for its medium) long stretches of silence, which can feel a LOT longer when you have no other forms of feedback except dialogue to know the first gunshot was just a warning.

So you really *do* feel Minkowski breaking out into laughter when Eiffel tries to invoke Air Force code is a release of the tension that's been building for multiple episodes. Like he's finally gotten through to them just how far this has all gone and how much further it could still go. I keep saying this: when the situation starts to threaten violence, he's got an amazing gift for keeping the rest of the crew in touch with their common humanity when the rest get far too used to a world that runs on self-interest and subterfuge. Hell, he even gets Hilbert and *Kepler* opening up over the course of the story (presuming Kepler is being honest when he talks about being a shell of himself, but even though he was trying to manipulate Eiffel, that doesn't exclude there being a kernel of truth in those words).

Speaking of Kepler: he's definitely riding the adrenaline high of the situation and it turns him into a monster with a manic streak. It makes Jacobi's and Maxwell's relative calm all the eerier by contrast. Those two really do make you forget that all of this is... pretty horribly routine for them.

Until they meet their match, that is, when the women of the Hephaestus refuse to stand down, and each of them is unspeakably badass in their own way. What Kepler didn't account for is that they're ready and willing to die together rather than sacrifice one another for their own survival.

Although again, the irony of the situation is that just dropping the station into the star could have let them avoid, /gestures at season 4. BUT I'm not gonna rain on the Badass parade here.

Bolero, aka "The podcast kicking me in the feelings while I'm down."

The way Minkowski orders everyone else out of the room before Brain Ghost Lovelace conversates with her. ...did she pop up in the middle of that conversation, I wonder? And all this when psi-wave radiation is spiking, apparently. Coincidence?

Oh come on Hera, war is no reason to end a friendship- Look, I came here from Metal Gear. I see folks dunking on Hilbert and I'm just over here like "he's still not as revolting as Huey Emmerich."

Listen I've seen enough of Warren Kepler and Marcus Cutter in this fandom to know y'all aren't above liking a bad guy, you just prefer the ones who're having fun with it.

"You're gonna come to my funeral! And you're gonna like it! ...I mean you're gonna feel really sad! And cry! And stuff! GOT IT??" Ah, good ol' Eiffel.

THE COMPUTER ALSO HAS BRAIN GHOSTS

"If I'm not your doctor, then what are we?" "We're... complicated?" Listen, Eiffel, if you're not careful, I'm going to start shipping you and Hilbert ironically For The Lulz, and we all know where shipping things ironically always leads.

Errybody gets brain ghosts this episode. Again: I accept that this is a device that's more interesting than an alternative method of expressing these same ideas, but the ambiguity of a Watsonian explanation (is it all in their heads? Do they really see an apparition of some kind?) lets me do my Weird. Look, I once wrote in a joke in a fic about Death from Discworld complimenting a Quirky Miniboss Squad member from Metal Gear Solid 3 on his taste in interior decorating arena design, and that spawned entire subplots in projects for two different fandoms, and eventually roped in a third fandom to elaborate further on their now-intertwined cosmology. Do not underestimate how much I can give myself to work with.

The last ten minutes of Bolero also fuck me up in a special way, partly because We Are Dealing With the Hard and Unavoidable Fact of Death but also the aliens are about to throw a curve ball that'll... alter that last part a little.

Like, words cannot describe the "Dead Man's Curve in the wet" hard right turn of going from being in mourning for several beloved characters (including my favorite) to SURPRISE, SHE'S BACK! I love it.

I'd have to check the scripts to be sure exactly because some words got lost in Lovelace's respiratory spasms but I do like to imagine the her head wound closing up in front of a horrified Eiffel and Minkowski, with a side order of glow-y shit. I've drawn too many Homestuck god tier revivals I guess.

Update: I DID check the recording script's stage directions to see just how disgustingly physical the whole event is and okay, so no weird glowing shit (I reserve my right to depict it that way anyway) but I'm delighted to report that the gross anatomical-ness I was picturing? It's worse! It is so much worse!

The goddamn AGONY that is the Special Episode being TWO HOURS LONG when it comes right after the BIGGEST CLIFFHANGER IN THE SERIES.

You have NO IDEA WHAT KIND OF TEMPTATION IT WAS TO SKIP THIS AND COME BACK TO IT LATER

LOVELACE 1.0 I LOVE YOU BUT ALSO I WANNA TO SEE WHAT'S HAPPENING TO FUTURE-YOU RIGHT NOW

Change of Mind: love the framing device placing this episode as within Lovelace's mind during her successful cranial reconstruction saving throw.

"Buncha nerds, gonna crash my-"

Just how familiar she is in this place, with these people... Hera was installed in her sister's grave (as another post put it), but Lovelace lives in the gutted cadaver of her home.

Zach Valenti's Lambert voice *does* sound like a bad Minkowski impression.

"I have a physicist to put the fear of *me* into." That's my girl. She kind of was more of an ass pre-Total Party Kill, though? Like come on, Isabel, how necessary *is* all this arguing with Lambert?

Fourier's voice is very nice, also. Very soft, very easy on the ears.

I'm now appreciating how it sounds like Fisher is the older and calmer mediator among the crew.

Also the image of Isabel just floating out in space and listening to some chill tunes is sooooo good.

Hey Doc, did it turn out Fisher was too perceptive to live. Was getting caught outside in that meteor shower really an accident. Hey. Hey Hilbert. Answer me.

Also goddamnit, has EVERY character in this series has read Harry Potter?

Did the Fishers always differentiate each other by audio channel? I had to rewind the scene when I realized Lovelace's questions in my right ear weren't getting an answer.

"Say you're a big pink elephant!"

*gunshot* *gross biological dissolving noises* WHY

"Just because somebody made you something doesn't mean that's all you're going to be - you can be more!" I wrote this line down prior to the end of the episode's confirmation that it's a Big Thematic Point.

Aaaand we're back to the framing device, and with that, season 3 wraps. Or maybe season 4 kicks off? Either way, hell of a way to kick it off.

Cecilia Lynn-Jacobs had a hand in writing this episode? Aw... that's sweet...

So, yeah, headcanon: Alien resurrection does the weird glowy thing to close any obviously fatal maladies, then the gross biological viscera part kicks in, hence Lovelace sounding like she's trying to hack up her lungs as soon as she starts using them again.

Listen, sometimes the gross biological viscera parts are my favorite parts, okay? Okay.

#wolf 359 #wolf 359 spoilers #long post #i underestimated how detailed these posts would get as the plot ramped up lmao

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arkus-rhapsode · 5 years

Note

I was wondering if you were planning on doing EZ reviews. I personally think if you get past the Erza clone and the similarities in looks with some characters that the story is very well and actually has a better plot than FT did.

So I’m going to give my surface level response on this and I will be fair on my stance like I usually try to. In the most general term, I don’t really review a series I don’t care about. If you notice I haven’t done a review of Black Clover in a while, its mainly cause this current arc is something I don’t really care about and it would feel like a drain on both me and my audience to here that each week. I’m sure my audience and EZ fans probably don’t wanna hear me belly ache about the series week to week.

This series really does show me that its made for people who like Hiro Mashima’s work. And if you do, more power to you, but your probably not going to enjoy my usually dissecting review style.

So right here I’m going to give my thoughts on the series to this point, and I wanna start positively. I do agree that the plot to Eden’s Zero is much better structured than FT’s once you get past the Elsie stuff. The four star shine robots plot to get to Mother actually seems like a good plotting out of how to take this story. It really reminds me of finding the four rave’s.

I also think I’ve mentioned this back in my former reviews, but the setting to is also interesting too, and forces world building. Though, I’d like them to experience the world rather than Witch just read of a synopsis of the world. Yeah having an internet in the world does kinda kill the sense of adventure.

And I will also say that I’m happy that most the cast has motivation unlike most of FT.

And with that we lead into my problems with the story. First as I mentioned, the the plot does have better structure once you get past the Elsie stuff, the problem is that before that the pacing and plot seems really really slow, very confused, and then introduces such a high concept like time being eaten and going to other worlds in the past. While I do appreciate Hiro trying for a slower pace in the beginning, he’s doesn’t use it interestingly. He could take this time to explain the government or how these cosmos work? Is there king of space? Could the cosmos be cut up like the blues in One Piece? Or how about my biggest question, WHAT THE FUCK IS ETHER GEAR?! No we need more time travel and friendship!

Then there’s the first arc with this whole sister stuff. I will give credit that Rogue Out as villains aren’t too bad. Jin is obviously the best because he might heel turn, the sumo looking guy isn’t overtly evil, which was nice, and I could kinda get into Sister’s whole thing of just doing what she is paid to do as a motivation. But all villains except them are the usual Hiro Mashima bland weirdos with no characterization.

This Illega guy, I was expecting maybe a twist with him and why he has a collection of girls was maybe something subversive. Maybe he is trying to bring back tourism to his planet and by kidnapping B-cubers he was going to make them make the planet more entertaining, I mean Rebecca had a whole chapter praising them as coming up with fun things to do. Maybe he has a child who has an ether gear that made them look human and left him after the planet got closed off saying they’ll become a B-cuber, so he’s kid napping B-cubers to see if that one is her and that stuff that makes them stone should make his child reveal her true form.

No, he’s just a creep who likes turning women into furniture. Because… And that guy Wise’s intro arc who is just a common thug with his leg fetish brothers.

So I can’t call that story well done. If it takes till the Elsie arc to actually get to the plot actually moving forward and that this current arc is this bland and boring arc with everything being in the morally black, its not interesting.

How about the characters? Well, Shiki I’ll at least be fair, is actually gotten better than Natsu mainly cause he’s trying to be proactive. I’ll even give his gravity power at least seems to have more creativity than the generic fire dragon magic. But he’s such a confused and bland character. I mentioned this in my review chapter 1, Shiki’s strongest aspect is his social awkwardness and how that related to being raised around machines in a fantasy park. But he wants Shiki to be like your usual big damn hero whenever the time comes for him to look cool.

I recently watched an interesting piece on how My Hero’s Deku and Black Clover’s Asta represented two different types of shounen protagonists and ways to take a story. With Deku being a representation of the protagonist who needs to grow physically and emotionally into the pillar of his world that can inspire and fufil his dream, while Asta already is the pillar of his world who already can inspire and needs to earn recognition. Both of these types of protagonist are fine, but Shiki is trying to be both of them and it results in none of them. He seemingly needs to grow into a person who can actually get a ton of friends, but he also is apparently the kid who will rock the universe. It just results in a confused character, why does he act like such an idiot when he’s completely competent in action scenes?

And what makes him endearing? Say robots have a heart? Dude all the robots in this series have shown the ability to make expression and have emotion. We saw an android walk the street in chapter 2! Why do machines act like Shiki just told them the word of god after he says they have a heart, they all emote. Look at Pino and especially Witch, they’re displaying a range of emotion. Its not like they look like a cyberman who talks mechanically.

He’s just confused and unfortunately falls always back into that friendship shit as his only motivator instead of possibly addressing the trauma or adding a layer on how he won’t lose other people and what that feels like for him. The only time it really felt like he was living up to that emotionally stunned guy, was when he was beating the shit out of Illega to the point that Pino needed to shut him off, because I’m sure this kid can’t handle the emotion of anger quite yet in this situation.

Rebecca I think is worse though. I don’t know why people like her other than her design. Her personality is essentially jelly that can be morphed into whatever you want to fit the situation. She’s perverted in some scenes, but then doesn’t like perversion? I mean, she gets two guns in her hands and looks like a moron shooting randomly. Like is that badass? Is this what a female character has to do to be considered cool now?

I don’t consider her a rip off of Lucy, because Lucy actually had a character. Had a personality. No she is more a rip off of Elie from Rave, right down to the shooting shit up part. Only Elie made sense cause she was actually really unhinged thanks to the fact that she had no memories. But she got over it! She developed. Outside of her one past flashback with Happy, nothing about her is that interesting. I’ll also give her that she now just gets ether gear and its something she clearly can’t control yet, so there is room for improvement.

Wise, is actually an okay character. He’s got a cool concept of a guy from the past who is an inventor living in the future. I think his only weakness is that his ether gear is stupidly OP.

Pino is… Just and ornament that looks cute. You want your daughteru character to latch onto Shiki, here. Hell, I have bet going with a friend of mine that Pino will get some upgrade and she’ll have the body of a hot teenage girl. Its not that I hate here idea of having her memory erased, but the more I see of her and to more I hear about this robots have a heart makes me wish Michael came along.

Yeah, missed opportunity, cause Michael is not only a foil to Shiki and his adoptive brother, but he also doesn’t have a humanoid face. Meaning he doesn’t get convey true emotion so he actually seems like a robot. He actually seems like he’d have a character arc about discovering wanting to be more and more human. People would call Shiki weird calling a robot his “brother” and Michael never thought about it and we know there are multiple models of Michael. Imagine how fucking devastating it would be to see yourself mass produced. Imagine he actually gets to the point that he wants a humanoid face, because he wants to emote.

No we get Pino, who basically is Carla, but lacks any of thee enjoyable sass. Because we didn’t have enough sidekicks on this cast. Also we learn EMP is how to shut off ether gear, great, this is like if Usopp just had sea-prism stone on him at all times.

Then there’s Homura, she’s awful too. I’ll at least give Rebecca that she’s likable, but Homura she is personalitiy-less and has the worse character gimmick I think I’ve seen. Its not funny, its dumb. She can also use this ether gear too, and its a sword that was apparently passed down-its fucking 10 commandments. She also just walked into this story, like wha…? I’d be fine if she was like hunting the Eden’s Zero ship and watched it take off on Bluegarden, but no, Homura just came along cause she conveniently met Wise.

I’ll give her credit that the sword fighting looks cool, and I understand why people might like her cause that actually seems like something badass, but as a character she just feels tacked on.

Then there’s witch who is basically just the older sister character.

Elsie is not awful actually. She actually is a lot different from Erza and I actually would like to follow the space pirates more than I would want these random travelers. Also quick question, why do they still have the Eden’s Zero looking like a pirate ship? I mean, it looks cool, but these fuckers are not pirates, not even close. Oh wait, I know! We needed to rip off captain Harlock some more.

I’m not going to even talk about the potential love square with Shiki, Rebecca and Lavilla/Labilla, possibly Esie and Homura (?) cause one credit to FT was it wasn’t a harem, and Rave used a character like Celia and Beruka to more add an extra layer to the relationship of Elie and Haru. SO hoping Hiro avoids that.

So yeah if this rant has probably showed you, I don’t think EZ is all that great. But if you like it, fine I get that. I just have no interest in really talking about it week to week as even though I got down on FT, the beginning of the series was still something I enjoyed and I wanted to talk about how the current stuff had turned out. But EZ has no, beginning I liked. So I just don’t feel like I should be talking about it week to week.

#ezero #edens zero

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theregoesjodariel · 5 years

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Pearls’ Night Out- Notes for Chapters 1-3

Hey, gang! For those unaware (which is probably most of my followers), I recently got back in the fic writing saddle with a bunch of Steven Universe fics. Currently, the one that I’ve spent the most time on is Pearls’ Night Out, a five-chapter story focusing on Pearl, Yellow Pearl, and Blue Pearl blowing off some steam by spending a night out and about in Empire City. You can read it here!

And, as I promised in the notes there, I’ll be releasing a couple behind-the-scenes type posts detailing the writing process, inspirations and homages, and easter eggs featured in the story. I’ll probably just make two-- one for chapters 1-3 and one for 4-5. This, of course, is the first of them. Read on for the cool stuff!

Chapter 1 includes what should be, I think/hope, the only references to the various songs featured in “Mr. Greg.” Obviously, I had to bring it up at least a couple times in the story, what with it being a tale of Pearl once again going to Empire City. Both references are to the song “Empire City” from that episode: there’s the title, “And Let’s Bring Pearl(s),” which is a cringe-inducing play on words/pseudo-snowclone of Steven’s deadpan final line from the song, which still makes me chuckle every time I listen to it without fail. The second reference is one of the last lines of the chapter, with Steven referring to Empire City as “a place that’s always exciting,” as Greg did in the song.

On the topic of awful puns, chapter 2′s title (”Mean Pearls”) physically hurt me to write, but I did it anyway. The reference should be self-explanatory.

Tonally, I tried to make the story a spiritual successor to “Last One Out of Beach City.” Specifically, while the episode of the show followed your typical ‘80s teenage romcom tropes and cliches to a T, Pearls’ Night Out spends each of its three body chapters (chapters 1 and 5 serve as a prologue and epilogue of sorts, respectively) trying to follow the formula of modern, twenty-first century teen romcoms. Currently, this is most noticeable in chapter 2, which uses the typical “prep vs. nerd” formula in Yellow Pearl’s confrontation with Kevin and his clique.

I originally wanted to include Pink Pearl in the story as well, with her competing for Sheena’s affections with Pearl Prime; think Betty and Veronica, with poor Sheena as Archie. I decided to drop Pink Pearl because I felt that Sheena’s light angst over whether or not she really belongs in Pearl’s world in chapter 3 was all the angst I could stomach, and any story with a post-CYM Pink Pearl is very likely to be roughly as angsty as your average Lapis-centric story.

The moment from chapter 1 where Steven calls out to Pearl and all three turn to face him is the closest I could get to a “Who’s on First?”-style bit featuring the Pearls. The opportunity to do it was too good to pass up and the bit would’ve gone on longer, but I had gotten into a rhythm while writing the chapter and felt that extending it past that point would’ve bogged down chapter 1′s necessary exposition.

The decision to include Kevin in chapter 2 wasn’t planned, it just happened naturally. I knew I wanted to pit Yellow against judgy, preppy high schoolers, but was at that point just thinking about using some OCs. However, once Kevin came to mind, I saw no reason not to use him, because shopping at the most expensive mall ever just because he can is something he’d totally do.

Furthermore, Kevin and co’s insults to Yellow are super lame. This was done on purpose: as was made very clear in “Kevin Party,” he’s really a lot less cool than he thinks he is.

I thought making Brooklyn Empire City’s most upper-class borough lined up nicely with SU’s bizarre real world-adjacent setting where New York and Vegas are smooshed together into one place and Halloween apparently doesn’t exist. It’s just the right amount of jarring, y’know?

Lacey’s is, of course, the Empire City equivalent to New York City’s Macy’s Times Square. Lacey’s is probably just as miserable during the holidays.

Yellow Pearl’s abject horror at Kevin’s friend wearing a pearl necklace was inspired by a moment from the official SU podcast. I can’t recall which episode it was-- I’m quite sure it was the most recent fan Q&A-- but there’s a moment where the gang is asked how the Gems would respond to seeing human jewelry. Deedee Magno-Hall responded by saying something to the affect of “they’d be horrified at first and still uncomfortable with it after it was cleared up for them.” Yellow Pearl’s instantly jumping into attack mode is my subtle way of showing that deep down, she wants to be as strong as our Pearl.

Rhiannon follows the same naming convention/gag as Sheena/Mystery Girl: she’s named after a ‘70s song, specifically the Fleetwood Mac song of the same name. It seemed a fitting name for a down-to-earth mall employee, plus the song rules.

Nailing down an exact period of time Pearl and Sheena didn’t call each other was hard. Remember that Steven Universe’s first five seasons take place roughly over the course of around a year and a half, so I had to find a convincing time frame within that year and a half during which Pearl could’ve feasibly not talked to Sheena without, y’know, irreversibly ruining their burgeoning relationship.

I tried to, very subtly, convey that Sheena was actually very different from Rose throughout her date with Pearl. Aside from the moment where Pearl looks into Sheena’s eyes, their conversation is much more equal, for lack of a better word, than most of the conversations we see between Pearl and Rose. In those, even when Pearl is ostensibly free to do what she wants, she’s still quite submissive to Rose and Rose is giving a lot of orders. I have nothing against Rose, of course; I just wanted to steer away from Sheena being too similar, as that would just make her and Pearl’s relationship feel like a long-overdue rebound/replacement for Pearl, which would just be creepy.

Lastly, I included a couple of nods to Sheena being an Aquabats fan. She’s got their logo on her bike helmet in “Last One Out of Beach City,” and when you’re an Aquabats fan, you represent.

#imadethis #intel files

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thiefcat-niao · 6 years

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Ending the Session (Chapter 2)

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Characters/Ships: Gemshipping (Thief King Bakura/Ryou Bakura); Ryou Bakura, Thief King Bakura, Atem, Yugi Mutuo, Zorc Necrophades Rating: T Length: Chapter 2 / 3; 2400 words

Summary:

Into Ryou’s lonely apartment comes a spirit, an ancient power that speaks and manifests through the Ouija board kept beneath the bed. It calls itself Tou, and claims to be human. Ryou believes.

Read on AO3 Previous Chapter – Next Chapter (Coming Soon~)

Chapter Two: A King of Thieves

For nearly a week, Ryou spoke to the spirit daily—sometimes twice daily. Yugi commented that Ryou seemed happier, when they met for coffee. Ryou shrugged off the comment, mumbling some half-truth about doing well in his classes. In reality, his homework hadn't been getting done with quite the level of diligence he usually held himself to.

Ryou hadn't learned much about how the spirit, Tou, had lived, but it didn't much matter. He had learned, in his estimation, many far more important things. Tou was pragmatic, for instance, and jaded, but had an unexpectedly lively sense of humor. At first Ryou had struggled to detect the spirit's jokes, through the toneless board. But he'd also grown far more attuned to the feel of Tou's presence, in his apartment, and fancied that he could sense Tou's general emotional state.

It worried Ryou that the spirit would grow suddenly tense, at times; would flicker with what appeared to be anxiety, or at least agitation, and usually request and end to the session. While Tou always offered fatigue as the explanation—and sometimes it was; Ryou could feel the weight of the spirit's exhaustion—those times were different. Ryou wondered what could cause a spirit like Tou to feel that way, and decided he had no basis with which to even form a hypothesis.

"i know whats keeping me here..." Tou had said, "and its not a thing you can help me deal with..." Ryou wished that that weren't true, but accepted it nevertheless, and so didn't pry.

Ryou stood, one evening, at the stove, preparing diner. The apartment was quiet. He was looking forward to speaking to Tou, later, but for the moment was quite enraptured in his cooking. The sizzling strips of meat made a pleasant crackling, and Ryou hummed along with the sound. They filled the apartment, too, with a heady aroma of meat and herbs, and Ryou bent in over the stove to assess whether or not he needed to add more of any particular seasoning before checking his rice on the rear burner.

The pepper grinder, on the far side of the counter, struck the ground with a jarring crash, and Ryou jumped. He looked around; heard nothing, save for the sizzling of beef in the pan. He glanced down at the pepper, rolling pensively across the floor.

"Tou...?"

The pepper grinder picked up speed suddenly—bumped into Ryou's foot. He smiled.

"Give me a second, okay?" Turning back to the stove, he lowered the heat; checked his rice again, and then scampered from the room. When he returned, he had the Ouija board tucked under his arm. He placed it beside the bloodied cutting board on his counter and opened it.

"Hello, Tou!"

"your dinner smells maddeningly good...” was the immediate reply, and Ryou chuckled.

"Is that all you wanted to tell me?"

"its important...” The pointer moved rapidly, a challenge to read, even for someone as practiced as Ryou. "youre a really good cook...”

"I didn't realize you could smell."

"i can hear and see and smell... i just cant touch or taste... no body yknow..."

"Fair enough."

"i want some of your dinner so badly i could die..."

"I wish you could join me," Ryou said, honestly.

There was a pause, and Ryou tilted his head; waited patiently. He could tell that the spirit hadn't left.

"thanks for talking to me...”

"Of course!" Ryou said, surprised. "I'm happy you want to talk to me, too!"

"its not so common for humans to contact us... not so common for them to be so open either... usually they get freaked out the first time they manage to make contact and then never do it again and usually theyre these stupid kids drunk or just real jerks not the likable type at all...

It was a long, rambling message, and Ryou waited for the pointer to still. Then he said, "I've used the board a lot. I've gotten responses, before, but never a spirit who's come back more than once or twice, let alone actually initiated the contact. It's really nice!"

Again, there was a pause, and when the pointer moved it did so rather slowly. "how do you know im not a bad spirit...”

"I don't, I guess, not for sure. But I don't think you are."

"when i told you i was called tou that was a bit of a lie... half a lie...”

"Oh?" Ryou tilted his head; waited for the spirit to continue.

"i was called touzokuo... king of thieves...”

"Oh. That's a cool title."

"cool you say cool...” The pointer moved so fast it almost jarred Ryou's hand free, and he jumped. "hahahahahaha... youre weird you know that... king of thieves is what they call a bad guy... i was a bad guy when i was alive...”

"That doesn't mean you're a bad spirit, now that you're not alive," Ryou said patiently, and the pointer fell still. There was the faint smell of something beginning to burn.

"youre a kind person to say that... but you should be careful... i had quite a reputation as not only a thief... but a killer..."

"I don't sense any blood-lust from you now, though," Ryou said, and the spirit was silent. "You aren't a bad spirit. I may not have any way to know, but I'm sure of it."

The pointer stayed still, for another moment, and then moved toward "goodbye." Ryou hurried to ask another question before it got there.

"What was your favorite food, when you were alive?!" he blurted—the first thing that came to his mind. To his relief, the pointer stilled.

"roast pig..." was the slow response, after a beat. Ryou smiled, relieved.

"Really? I'm more of a dessert person, myself, but savory foods can be really good. Especially when you're hungry."

"aha... thats very true..."

"Were you hungry, a lot? Is that why you became a thief?"

"dont try to make excuses for what i just told you..."

"I'm not," Ryou huffed, a bit indignant. "I just want to know you better. I want to understand you."

"i was hungry..." the thief said, after a moment. "i was angry too... i wanted to get back at the whole world..."

Ryou considered that, then said, "I wish you could join me, for supper."

"your foods starting to burn... you should get that... itd be tragic to ruin it..."

Ryou nodded, but as he went to leave the board, some near-physical force held his hand to the pointer.

"r-y-o-u" the spirit spelled out, with a force that surprised the human boy. "end the session... never leave without saying goodbye... youve used the board enough to know that..."

Ryou hesitated, then nodded. "Sorry. You're right, of course... Goodbye, Tou."

And the pointer, in response, moved to, "goodbye".

... ... ...

Ryou stifled a yawn; popped a piece for chocolate into his mouth, and took a swallow of coffee. The apartment felt unusually empty—devoid, in a rare moment, of spirits. And, though he knew he should sleep, Ryou had to take the opportunity to do research while he had the apartment to himself. So there he sat, at his desk, the light of the computer screen tinting his white hair light blue.

"King of Thieves... Thief King... Touzokuo..."

So far, he hadn't found any historical figures matching those titles, but they were sufficiently vague enough to render standard search engines all but useless.

It was three in the morning; Ryou took another sip of his coffee.

'Didn't he say... wait, that garbled message...'

Scrabbling through some papers beneath his bed, Ryou found the notebook he'd had during his first conversation with the spirit that called itself Touzokuo. He returned to his desk, then looked at the word that hadn't made any sense, at the time; the word he'd assumed to be some sort of spiritual typo: nedjem.

Ryou ate another piece of candy; it had a pressed brown sugar center inside of milk chocolate, and he let it melt in his mouth, feeling the graininess as he rubbed his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He typed "nedjem" into the computer, and hit enter.

At first, nothing interesting showed up—the search engine tried to autocorrect his query to needed. So he tried "meaning of word nedjem," and hit enter once again.

A... carob pod...?

Ryou's eyes widened slightly as he stared, surprised, at the hieroglyph that had appeared on his screen. He clicked on the first result, and read aloud, "Ancient Egyptian hieroglyph signifying 'sweet,' represented visually by a carob pod and thought to be said as 'nedjem.' One instance documents a doubling of the symbol, presumably read 'nedjemnedjem,' to indicate a pleasing concubine."

Ryou took a deep breath; tasted the sugar thick on his tongue, and took a drink of coffee to wash it down.

Ancient... Egypt...

It made sense, the more he thought about it. Though he'd passed off the spirit's reference to Anubis, Anubis being a fairly well-known symbol of death even in modern times, it made a lot more sense if he considered it as an influence of the spirit's original culture.

So what did I ask? Why "nedjem"?

He had asked what the spirit was called—Tou. He'd asked what the spirit was—h-u-m-a-n. He'd asked if the spirit had made contact with the living before—once or twice.

Ryou ate a marshmallowy piece of candy that got stuck in his teeth, and momentarily distracted himself getting it out with his tongue.

Then, it struck him.

"youre odd... different from others ive talked to..."

"Really? How so?"

"n-e-d-j-e-m"

Ryou's hands flew to his face, and he tried not to read into the odd answer, now that he knew what the long-extinct word meant. After a few more fruitless internet searches, he'd worked himself into enough of a frenzy that the mere thought of sleep was impossible. And, the internet having failed him, he reached for his cell phone and knocked his pencil holder off his desk in the attempt.

... ... ...

"Hnn..." Yugi Mutou raised his head as his cheerful ringtone cut through the silence. He dragged himself to the side of the bed, ignoring the bleary, angry muttering of the man sleeping beside him, and observed the time on the glowing screen—3:47—and the name. "Unh... Ryou-kun...? What is it...?"

"Yugi-kun! Ah, I'm so sorry, did I wake you?"

"Ryou-kun, it's almost four in the morning..." Yugi stifled a yawn; listened to his friend squeak and shuffle frantically on the other end of the line.

"I-I'm so sorry! I-I forgot, for a second... haha! I can call back tomorrow, if—"

"Ryou, I'm awake. What's up?" Yugi settled in, arms folded beneath his chin and atop his pillow.

"Ahh—! O-Okay, then... well... has Atem ever mentioned a legendary Thief King, from Ancient Egypt?"

"Thief King?" Yugi echoed, and was startled when his bed-partner bolted suddenly upright. "Atem! What's—?!"

"Who's on the phone, Yugi?"

"Great Ra..." Yugi breathed, and Ryou made a questioning sound. "Hey, Atem just woke up... Do you want to talk to him?"

"Oh Yugi, that would be wonderful! Are you sure he wouldn't mind?"

"Give me the phone, Yugi," Atem commanded, though his eyes were shadowed with sleep and his hair was sticking out to the side, as opposed to his usual vertical spikes.

"He wouldn't mind at all," Yugi told Ryou, and then held out the phone to his boyfriend.

"Oh! Atem! Sorry to bother, at this hour, I just... got all caught up, and—"

"Out with it, Bakura," Atem commanded, and Ryou squeaked. "What's this about the Thief King?"

"I just... well, you're an Egyptologist, after all, and that's where you're from, anyway, so I figured if anyone would know anything about—"

"Where did you hear about the Thief King, though?" Atem demanded, and Ryou swallowed audibly.

"So there is something..."

"Bakura, tell me where you heard that title," Atem said, his voice low and almost threatening. Yugi pulled worriedly at the sleeve of his nightshirt.

"I just... I mean... a friend. A friend mentioned him." Ryou's voice was shaking.

"Don't lie to me, Ryou Bakura."

"Atem, don't scare him," Yugi implored. "You know how he is..."

"O-Okay..." Ryou began hesitantly. "Y-You know how I like to play around with Ouija boards, occasionally...?"

Atem scrambled up; stumbled from the bed, much to Yugi's increased distress, and cursed as he tripped over a discarded piece of clothing. "You didn't. Tell me you're not going to say what I think you're about to say, Bakura. Tell me you don't have the spirit of the Thief King in your apartment."

"Well, not at this exact moment, but—"

"Great Ra!" Atem fumbled with his coat; threw it on over his nightclothes as Yugi began to follow him from the bed. "Okay, Bakura, I need you to leave that apartment immediately, do you understand? I'm coming to get you."

"Wait, what?!" Ryou spluttered, and Yugi called out his boyfriend's name in confusion. Atem ignored them both.

"This—this is why Ouija boards have a bad reputation, Ryou," Atem continued, hopping into his shoes. "You've gone and summoned something bad, now, something very bad, and—"

"Tou wouldn't hurt me!" Ryou objected suddenly, and Atem cursed.

"Listen to me, Ryou—the so-called Thief King is a demon-god. You know I was a pharaoh in a previous life, don't you? I lived during the same time as the Thief King."

"You knew him?!"

"I killed him, Bakura, when he tried to kill me! After he—!" Atem cut himself off; muttered a curse. "He isn't human—he's a demon, as I said, a demon called Zorc, who took on human form to kill the pharaoh—to kill me, and those I loved."

"That doesn't make any sense!" Ryou objected.

"He's deceiving you! He's the best damned liar I've ever met in any lifetime, believe me, and now he's lying to you! I'm coming over, okay? You stay on the phone with me now, and—Bastet!" Atem cursed.

Yugi—a few steps behind him, on the way to the door—yelped. "What?!"

"Little asshole hung up on me!" Atem fumed; handed Yugi his phone. "Try to call him. We're going to his apartment."

"Atem, is he... really in danger...?"

"Not unless he's done something really stupid like opened a portal..." Atem muttered, flinging the door open and flying down the apartment stairs, Yugi on his heals. "Gods... let him be safe... I can't lose another friend... not to that bastard Thief King... not in this lifetime..."

#gemshipping #thief king bakura #ryou bakura #yu-gi-oh #fanfiction #fanfic #niao writes things

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natalie-hemstock-project-one · 6 years

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Context

Notes From The Lesson

The Newspaper: The headlines of the newspaper are bold, catchy and interesting (to help draw the reader into the things they may be interested in; as they select what they read). The newspaper is mainly for reading about news stories, sport, the weather, varied reports, articles, events and reviews. Also, the newspaper can be used as a source of both information and entertainment; crosswords, Sudoku and TV guide. The newspaper is described as ‘throw away media’ as people can just recycle the newspaper once they have finished with it. Alongside that, the photographs in the newspapers can be informative; only if it is related to the actual article, as it shows the item that the article is talking about, also the photograph gives off a different message in different items.

Online Article: An online article can refer to the past and its events for information. With an online article you can find them in various places online; such as: news feeds; Snapchat, Facebook, Twitter and other social media’s, online articles Google Search, news websites; The Daily Mail, and you can also Google the journalists name. The photographs also perform differently on social media than they do in a newspaper. Alongside that, online articles are also known as ‘scroll away media’ as people tend to only read it for a couple of seconds before carrying on scrolling or they just completely scroll past the article.

The #: People who want to get more attention on social media tend to use the # that is most popular with the other people on the social Medias that they are on.

Framed Photograph: The framed photograph has more intention than the others because a framed photograph is something that you want to preserve better. As the photograph is framed the highlighted meaning behind is highlighted more so the viewer can see the artist impression much more clearly. Framed photographs are often found in galleries, museums and homes as it could have been taken by someone famous person or it could be of a family member with a famous person, a memory or a family photo; which can be embarrassing. Also the viewer is able to read more into the photograph.

Tea Photograph

Colours: The colours in this photograph are beige, red, white and blue. The red, white and blue could represent the flags of the UK, America, France, Russia, New Zealand and Australia. The tea; on the other hand, is associated with the British; as we are stereotypically tea drinkers. The Royal Family is also associated with Britain; as some of the British people look up to the British Royal Family, alongside that, the UK is one of the only countries that have a Royal Family still in power. With that, tea and the wealthy British people are also stereotypically involved as back in the past only the wealthy drank tea as it was quite expensive to buy tea, as the Brits had to import tea leaves from places like: India, China, Africa and Thailand as they have warmer climates than the British do.

Fine China: The china of the cup is in a traditional East Asian style and to hold the cup, you would have to stick your pinkie out so it is also stereotypically a cup used for the wealthy as most of their cups require you to stick out your pinkie finger.

The Checkered Blanket (The Table Cloth): This type of checkered blanket can be used for picnics, parties, dining rooms and cafes. If it is found in a picnic area then it is made out of cotton and as for the rest it will be made out of either paper or plastic as it is easier to wipe up or throw way if it gets too dirty.

The Photographer: The photographer of this photograph is Martin Parr who is famous for taking over-saturated, flash, film, over exaggerated close up photographs of British Culture. Parr mainly took photographs around the 70’s and 80’s where he used a 35MM colour film with flash. Alongside that, in the 80’s Margret Thatcher (The Iron Lady)came into power; as she was elected Prime Minister, and as she came into power the classes of Britain where divided because of her and her parties ideas (Thatcherism). Her ideas where that the you had work extremely hard to get where you are now and that had an effect on the working class; as the rich managed to work less and still have a lot of money, whereas, the working class had to either work as hard as they possibly could or struggle to find jobs; as she had closed down the mines, and they still didn’t have a lot of money because of the wage gap between the two classes. Martin Parr took photographs of the lower classes in detail to try and get the working class to realize that the Prime Minister was wrong and they were the ones with the most influence to get Margret Thatcher to change her policies.

Context

1. Introduce the image, who’s it by, when was it taken and what body of work was it from?

This photograph is by Ed Burtynsky and it was taken in 2009 of a mass of tires in a circle from the body of work: ‘Oil”.

2. What is the genre of photography?

I think that the genre of this piece of photography is abandonment as someone has just left the tires to be left and added to once people have finished with those tires, so they just leave the tires to be left there to collect dust.

3. What is the photograph of?

This photograph is of a lot of old tires surrounding a concrete hole in the middle.

4. What does the article say about the body of work? (Use quotes – remember to use “quotation marks”)

What the article of the body of work says is ‘Burtynsky captures the effects of oil on our lives, depicting landscapes altered by its extraction from the earth and by the cities and suburban sprawl generated around its use. He also addresses the coming "end of oil," as we confront its rising cost and dwindling availability.’

5. After reading this – what do you think this image about?

After reading the article I have come to the conclusion that I think that this photograph is about tires are being used too much so then collection of tires are being mounded up and being updated with tires too much that the photographer; Burtynsky, takes these sort of photographs to tell everyone that this is the impact that we are having on the world.

6. Why did the photographer make this body of work?

The photographer; Ed Burtynsky, made this body of work to address the ‘”end of oil”’ and ‘the consequences of our use of oil’ so people would be able to see the damage of what they were doing to the world, so they would be able to attempt to do something about it and pressure the government into allowing the right decisions to go through to help save the environment from anymore harm.

7. What connotations are you seeing in this photograph?

The connotations that I am seeing from this photograph is: the world has managed to pollute the planet Earth that much that people of Earth have finally realized what they have done, so they have taken apart all of the cars and just left them waiting for the government to decide on what they are going to do about them and then while that was happening a group of people stole all of the tires in this photograph and the others that we cannot see and placed them into the places that they are in the photograph and left the space in the centre for the leader to perform all sorts of things for their beliefs while everyone stands on the tires cheering with what their leader says. Alongside that, I am also getting the connotations of: aliens have finally invaded Earth and have taken all of the cars, bikes, trucks and anything else that needed the use of tires, to use as new hovercrafts and have just disposed the tires in that circular motion until they figure something out to use them for. Also, I am getting the connotations of: that Earth has finally reached the stage of either a dystopian or utopian place and no longer needs the use of tires.

8. Do you think the photographer successfully communicates a message with their image?

Yes, I do think that the photographer has successfully communicated a message with this image. However, there won’t be a mediate on what Burtynsky is trying to say as the governments are too busy discussing things that they think is more important because they haven’t gotten the photographers message yet.

1. Introduce the image, who’s it by, when was it taken and what body of work was it from?

This photograph was taken by Richard Billingham in 2000 of a man in his house with a cat jumping above him from the body of work called ‘Ray’s A Laugh’.

2. What is the genre of photography?

I think genre of this piece of photography is comedy, because it’s not every day that you see cat jumping over a man who is moving out of the way.

3. What is the photograph of?

The photograph is of a man sat in a room; that is filled with all sorts of things, moving out of the way of the cat that is jumping over the man’s shoulder.

4. What does the article say about the body of work? (Use quotes – remember to use “quotation marks”)

The article says that this body of work is ‘It is a chronicle of everything that hurts… a cartoonish-nightmare jaunt through the land of alcohol-living, wet-smelly breath that stinks and simmers, chapped-lips that burn and crack, of space to live that shrinks and crowds further inward, of carpet that rots, of scratched linoleum that looks as if it wants to escape, of paint that wants to peel away and go somewhere else, of childhood dreams that learn to stay in the closet and behave, that learn to stay in the clouds, far away, of love and devotion that exists but is trampled on by vice and forcefully dominated by earthly human-short-circuits.’

5. After reading this – what do you think this image about?

After reading this I think this image was used to help the photographer; Richard Billingham, to have a funny coping mechanism to help him forget all of the hard things that he and his family had gone through and will go through because of their place in the world and not being able to do anything about it.

6. Why did the photographer make this body of work?

Billingham; the photographer, made this body of work to remind the viewers that they need to dream more and not to be fully sucked into the world of reality, dreaming isn’t really something that the realistic world needs; as they are too busy focusing on the facts of what is true and what isn’t. Whereas, dreams can allow you to do anything.

7. What connotations are you seeing in this photograph?

The connotations that I am seeing is that an alien has probed a cat to do unexplained things; that humans do not know the answer to, and this is the first time that the cat has done something like this so the man is shocked and is trying his best to get out of the away; in the small space that he has to move about in, of the probed cat before it floats more and eventually ends back up on the alien space ship to be de-probed, as the aliens have finished their experiments with the cat. Alongside that, I am also getting connotations that ghost has possessed the cat and is making the cat do supernatural things and the man is shocked that the cat can do something like this, because the cat normally just sleeps.

8. Do you think the photographer successfully communicates a message with their image?

Yes, I do think that Billingham has successfully communicated a message with his photograph because it allows other people to know that they are not the only ones who dream or live in the same living conditions as someone else. Alongside that, it also allows the people who are richer than them to try and pressure the government into helping people out more.

Links Used: http://www.edwardburtynsky.com/site_contents/Books/Oil.html and http://www.americansuburbx.com/2010/07/richard-billingham-rays-laugh.html

1. What is the photograph of?

This photograph is of a sheep; that is looking at the camera, on a hill in a field; that is surrounded by wire fencing.

2. What genre of photography is it?

The genre of this photograph is nature and portrait, as it has sky, grass and sheep in it and it also has the sheep looking directly at the camera.

3. What message is your photograph communicating?

My photograph is communicating that sheep are very judgmental animals; as they like to judge people as they walk by.

4. What could you have done differently to make this image more successful?

To make my photograph more successful I would zoom in more on the sheep, so you can get more detail on the sheep’s features.

1. What is the photograph of?

The photograph is of a slide on an empty playground.

2. What genre of photography is it?

The genre of this photograph is loneliness because there are no children running about having fun, so the playground just sits there waiting in the cold for a child or children to come and play.

3. What message is your photograph communicating?

The message that my photograph is communicating is that things get left and forgotten about, so the places become lonely and abandoned because there is no one there who remembers this place to use the facilities.

4. What could you have done differently to make this image more successful?

To make my photograph more successful I would put the camera on the slide and take the photograph of what someone could see as they were preparing to go down the slide.

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